


A Convenient Marriage

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama & Romance, First Time, Forced Marriage, M/M, Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3105758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a marriage of convenience can become so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CHALLENGE: From the Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.sockiipress.org/~luthien/snapeff/warning.html - Bonus Challenge: Sirius must ask/beg Snape to marry (and consummate the marriage with) Harry. Also, Casey issued this challenge: "It's after the war. The good side has won but Lucius has managed to wiggle out of it, though his finances are now less than they were. To bring back prestige and money, he invokes an old law that says a house could attach itself to another by marriage, with little recourse to the other house. Lucius obviously chooses Harry. The only hope Harry has is that it is allowed for another witch or wizard to step up and duel Lucius for the right to marry HP (marriage must be consummated with Veritaserum given the next morning for proof). Snape is the only one who qualifies." 
> 
> OotP note - there are only mild spoilers for "Order of the Phoenix" in this story, and it is quite obviously an AU. Points to anyone who figures out the movie/book inspiration(s) for critical scenes towards the end. Thanks to Caesia for her help with the Latin phrase in this story - I really appreciate it. Thanks to my beta editors - Mac, Isolde, Courtney, Biblios, and Anino for all their help, especially at the last minute for such a long story. You guys are all great!

 

Prologue

Sirius Black stomped all the way down the stairs to the dungeons, cursing Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape equally under his breath. This whole mess was Snape's fault! He was just sure of it, even if he hadn't figured out _yet_ just exactly _how_ blame could be laid at the bastard's door. He wasn't surprised that Lucius had pulled a stunt like this; the man was as slippery as a snake and had more lives than a cat. Just look at the way he'd managed to keep out of Azkaban _again_ , even with Voldemort dead and the rest of the Death Eaters dead or locked up forever.

Sirius smirked slightly. Well, Lucius hadn't escaped retribution _completely_. The new Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, had seen to that. Lucius had been stripped of much of his holdings, including his manor house and his Gringott's bank accounts, to be used to help compensate Voldemort's victims. In addition to these woes, his son, Draco, had been killed in the final battle, and Narcissa had divorced her disgraced husband to return to her family. Of course, Sirius didn't doubt that Lucius had squirreled away a tidy fortune in Muggle banks - the man had always been one to play both sides - but Lucius Malfoy was in pretty bad shape in the eyes of the wizarding world these days.

Sirius scowled as he recalled just exactly how Lucius had decided to repair the family honour, and he was still scowling as Snape opened his door.

"Black," Snape said, his voice as warm as an iceberg. "How unpleasant to see you. Go away."

Snape started to shut the door but Sirius wedged his foot in the doorway. "I've got to talk to you, Snape."

"Unfortunately for you, I feel no corresponding desire for communication. If you don't remove your foot from my doorway, you and Moody will soon have something in common."

"It's about Harry."

Snape frowned but stopped trying to shut the door. "What has the brat done now?"

"Hardly a 'brat'," Sirius growled, irritated by the slur on his beloved godson.

"Pardon. 'The Shining Light of the Quidditch World', then," Snape said with a sneer.

"Lucius Malfoy has invoked the _Colligare Gentes_. I need you to counter his offer," Sirius said flatly.

Snape blinked and released his hold on the door. With a smirk, Sirius pushed past him into Snape's living room. "Got anything to drink?"

Snape shut the door, gesturing towards the bookcase-lined wall as he did. Sirius prowled over and perused the collection of cut crystal bottles, raising his eyebrows as he recognized a very fine wizarding whiskey in one of them. He poured a healthy splash into one of the glasses and then, after looking over at the stunned Snape, poured a second glass and carried it over to the man.

"Here," he said, handing Snape the glass. "You're going to need this."

Snape automatically took a sip and the whiskey appeared to jog his brain a little as he immediately glared at Sirius. "You must be out of your mind."

"What, you think Malfoy wouldn't try to pull a stunt like that?" Sirius asked, settling himself comfortably into what he guessed was Snape's favourite chair. He was starting to enjoy himself. Despite Harry's predicament, it was almost worth it to see Snape off-balance. "Harry's the last of the Potter line, unattached, and under twenty, plus he's the hero of the wizarding world. Of _course_ Lucius would try to grab him. It's his only hope of being allowed back into polite society."

"The _Colligare Gentes_ hasn't been invoked in over a hundred years," Snape pointed out, frowning as he paced over to the fireplace and stood leaning against the mantle, looking into its flames. "The Ministry enacted so many restrictions to its use that it became impractical to use."

"Malfoy evidently doesn't think so, and Albus says the man's covered every requirement. If we don't come up with a Champion for Harry, Malfoy's got the legal right to demand Harry's hand in marriage."

"And you want _me_ to be Potter's Champion," Snape said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Why?"

Sirius shrugged helplessly. "Who else am I going to get? It has to be a member of an old wizarding family. Albus is too old, I'm Harry's godfather, and Remus' curse disqualifies him."

"The Weasleys?"

"The three older boys are married, Ron's engaged, and I doubt the twins or Ginny could best Lucius Malfoy in a duel. Frankly, you're Harry's only chance."

Snape frowned as he took a sip of his whiskey and then he turned to look at Sirius. "You understand that if I were to agree to be Potter's Champion, he would be equally obligated to marry me."

Sirius nodded, frowning as well. "Better you than Malfoy," he said reluctantly. "You may be an obnoxious git, but at least I know you've got Harry's best interests at heart."

"Thank you for that ringing endorsement, Black," Snape said dryly. "Does Potter know you're here?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. He doesn't know anything about it - his team's in Italy this week and he doesn't get back till late tonight. Albus received a head's up from Arthur this morning and contacted me, and I came straight here from his office."

"In that case, I think we should wait to see how young Mr. Potter feels about the situation," Snape said, and Sirius thought he must have gotten over the shock as he sounded more like his normal snarky self. "He may have a more appropriate candidate in mind. Therefore, I must request you cease drinking my expensive liquor, vacate my chair, and go home to await his return."

"There isn't a more appropriate candidate, and you know it," Sirius said stubbornly. "Malfoy is one of the best duellists in the country. You're the only one who has a hope of defeating him."

"Black - "

"Please," Sirius forced out between gritted teeth. "I'm begging you, Snape. Please keep Malfoy from getting his slimy hands on Harry."

Snape stared at Sirius in stunned silence for a full moment. There wasn't a trace of the usual arrogance on Black's face, and the sincerity in his eyes was beyond question. "All right," Snape said slowly. "I'll do whatever is in my power - as long as Potter agrees to this as well."

"He will," Sirius said, relief obvious in his voice as he set down his glass and stood up. "I'll make sure he understands what's at risk the minute he gets back."

Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No doubt you'll completely balls up the whole thing," he said irritably. "Say nothing to Potter when he returns. Bring him here tomorrow and we'll discuss the situation completely. I'll ask Albus to stand as my second in the negotiations."

Sirius nodded and headed for the door, then turned around and came back. Hesitantly, he held out his hand. "Thanks, Snape. I'm in your debt."

Snape stared at the extended hand and then cautiously, as if expecting a trap, took Sirius' hand and gave it a brief shake before releasing it. "Get out, Black, so I can salvage what is left of the night."

Sirius grinned and left, and Snape sank into his favourite chair, to sip his whiskey and contemplate this strange new twist to his life.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Harry followed his godfather down the steps to the Hogwarts' dungeons, still mystified by Sirius' insistence that they come here first thing this morning. When Sirius had first Flooed to his flat, Harry had been less than thrilled with his request for Harry's company. He was worn out after spending the last month on tour with England, and was looking forward to relaxing in his flat and maybe going clubbing with his flatmates. But Sirius had been insistent, almost desperately so, and Harry had finally agreed.

Harry's first thought had been that something had happened to Dumbledore. However, when Sirius turned towards the dungeons, he wondered if Snape was in some sort of trouble. Even though Voldemort was no more and most of his Death Eaters were dead or in Azkaban, there were a few like Lucius Malfoy who had managed to escape justice. Any one of them would have been more than willing to inflict harm on the traitor Snape. Just because he didn't particularly _like_ the git didn't mean that he wasn't worried about him. So Harry was considerably relieved when a healthy-looking Snape opened the door to his private chambers, even if he immediately snorted and stalked away to the fireplace.

Harry blinked his eyes - the spell to correct his vision made it harder to adjust to rapid changes of light - and looked around the room. The sight of Albus Dumbledore seated in one of the armchairs made Harry's smile widen, and he crossed the room to greet the elderly wizard.

"Headmaster," he said. "You're looking well."

"Harry, my dear boy." Dumbledore smiled fondly at him. "I've heard great things about England's chances in the World Cup this year."

"We'll do our best, sir," Harry said, grinning. He looked from Dumbledore to Sirius and back again. "What's this about, then?"

"Lucius. Malfoy."

Harry turned towards the fireplace where Snape stood with his back to them. "I beg your pardon? What has Malfoy to do with anything?"

"A lot, I'm afraid," Sirius said heavily, and Harry looked back at him. "Malfoy's filed the _Colligare Gentes_ on your behalf."

"The what?" Harry said blankly.

"What _are_ they teaching children these days?" Snape sneered. Harry ignored him, looking inquiringly at Dumbledore.

" _Colligare Gentes_ literally means binding bloodlines together," Dumbledore explained. "It is a provision to keep the old Wizarding families from dying out completely. When there is only one underage member remaining in a family line, another pure blood family can petition to marry the young person to one of their own family. The first child from that marriage is the property of the 'adopting' family, but all other offspring belong to the endangered family line."

"In theory, anyway," Snape said sneeringly. "In practice, it was common for one pure blood family to wipe out another family except for a child who would then be forcibly wed to one of their wretched offspring. Easier than negotiating bridal agreements, especially since they could glean the choicer bits of the 'bride's' inheritance."

"But I'm not a child and Draco Malfoy is dead."

"You are under twenty-one, the age of majority under the _Colligare Gentes_ ," Snape said, "and _Lucius_ Malfoy is very much alive."

" _He_ wants to marry me?" Harry asked, grimacing in distaste.

"Ah, Potter has some shred of intelligence after all," Snape said mockingly.

Sirius glared at Snape. "Belt up, Snape. This isn't helping matters."

"So what do I have to do?" Harry demanded. "You're not just going to let Malfoy marry me, are you?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, we don't have too many choices in this matter. Lucius has filed the required paperwork, and you _are_ the last of the Potter line."

"There _is_ another alternative," Sirius said hesitantly. "To stop just the sort of misuse Snape was describing, an amendment was made to the _Colligare Gentes_. The party in question - that's you - can choose a Champion. Your Champion would then fight a wizard's duel with Malfoy, winner take all."

"That's a relief," Harry said, smiling at Sirius. "So, who's going to fight Malfoy, Sirius - you or the Headmaster?"

To his surprise, Sirius refused to meet his eyes. "It's not quite that easy, Harry. If your Champion should win, you have to marry him. I can't because I'm your godfather. Albus is above the age requirements, Remus is disqualified because of his curse, and the remainder of your friends are either married or not skilled enough to fight Malfoy."

"So who does that leave?" Harry asked impatiently. Sirius' eyes slid to Snape and then returned to their contemplation of the dungeon floor. "No. Oh, no. You're having me on."

"I am equally overjoyed at the idea," Snape said dryly. "Nevertheless, there are no other alternatives."

"Couldn't Snape just fight him and we get engaged, then call it off before the wedding?" Harry asked. "We could say we're incompatible. No one would doubt that."

"And Malfoy could once more file the _Colligare Gentes_ ," Snape said in a bored tone of voice. "Personally, I am not prepared to keep challenging Malfoy for the next two years till you turn twenty-one or Malfoy tires of the game."

"But it'd be a formality, right?" Harry said, a tinge of desperation in his voice. "We wouldn't be _really_ married; it would be just the legal stuff."

"If you are referring to consummation of the marriage, I'm afraid that is a requirement as well." Harry blanched and Snape smirked. "What, frightened by the thought of our wedding night, Potter? I promise to be gentle."

"Bastard," Harry hissed at him.

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore said quietly. "This gets us no where."

Harry turned to his godfather, looking at him desperately. "Sirius, don't let them do this to me."

Sirius sighed. "Actually, Harry, I'm the one who asked Snape to do this for you."

"'Begged' is the term I'd use," Snape said, smirking again.

Harry blinked. If Sirius had begged Snape, his bitter rival, to marry Harry, then this was deadly serious. "Shit."

"A colourful but nevertheless aptly descriptive summation of the situation," Snape said. "You can hardly be more distressed by this turn of events than I am."

Harry snorted. "Right. I bet you couldn't resist the opportunity to humiliate me one more time."

"That _is_ one compensation of this agreement," Snape said. "And there is the matter of securing an heir to the Snape line."

Harry rolled his eyes. "In case it escaped your notice, I'm a man."

"In case it escaped _your_ notice, I'm a potions master."

Harry blanched. "There are potions that can make a man pregnant?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Why do I even bother trying to teach these imbeciles anything?" he muttered. "Yes, Potter, there are several potions to enable a male wizard to bear young. Otherwise, given the large number of gay wizards in the population, we would have died out centuries ago."

"Oh." Harry hadn't thought about that. As a matter of fact, he hadn't thought much about relationships recently. Following the disaster with Cho Chang in his Fifth year, he'd given up trying to understand girls and had concentrated on killing Voldemort. After leaving school, he'd been recruited by England's Quidditch team, which had kept him occupied for the past two years. He'd been so busy trying to prove himself that he hadn't had time for more than a short session with his right hand before falling asleep most nights.

He'd sometimes thought about dating, particularly when he saw Ron and Hermione together, but the only people interested wanted the Boy-Who-Lived, not just plain Harry. He snorted; well, at least he knew Snape didn't want him for his fame. Of course, that brought up another question.

"Um, what if I'm not...you know," he stammered, flushing.

Snape rolled his eyes dramatically. "Your eloquence amazes me, Potter. What if you're not _what_?"

Harry glared at him. " _Gay_. What if I'm not into men like that?"

Snape shrugged. "It hardly matters. This will be a marriage of convenience, not a love match, Potter. I don't care what you do, so long as you are discreet. If we decide to produce progeny, we must guarantee that my heir is a Snape, but other than that I really don't care."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "You're giving me _permission_? To _cheat_ on you?"

"Middle class Muggle morals," Snape muttered.

"Does that mean you'd feel free to cheat on me, too?"

"Yes," Snape said matter-of-factly. "Not that I have much inclination for dalliance. I am much too busy for such things."

Harry glared at Snape and started to say something about _Snape's_ morals, but Dumbledore interrupted. "I take it that you will accept Severus as your Champion, Harry?"

Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't seem to have much choice. Between Snape and Malfoy, I'll take Snape any day." He stepped closer to Snape, until they were only standing inches apart, and stared up at the taller man. "Just tell me you can beat him."

Snape sneered. "With my eyes shut."

"Well, keep them open, if you don't mind," Harry retorted, and Snape blinked at the forcefulness in the younger man's tone. "This is my future we're talking about."

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

The first week of April, Harry found himself pacing back and forth in the tiny room he'd been sent to in the Ministry building. It had been a frustrating three weeks: filing his appeal, meeting with the Ministry official assigned to his case, listening to Sirius and Dumbledore negotiating the marriage contract.... The latter had been particularly disturbing as he was forced to realize that he'd have to change his whole life. He'd have to move in with Snape, for one thing. Not that sharing a flat with two team mates had been perfect bliss - he never seemed to be able to get a hot shower - but it had been _his_ life, and _his_ flat, not someone else's.

Of course, it would be infinitely worse to be in Malfoy's clutches. Hermione had read everything on the subject and had informed him that under the law, everything Harry possessed would legally belong to Malfoy until he turned twenty-one: his vault, his salary, even his clothes and possessions. Malfoy could even cancel his Quidditch contract. And then there was the matter of children.

At least Snape was willing to be reasonable - or at least Dumbledore, as Snape's representative, was. Snape was willing to treat him as an adult - which made his current situation doubly infuriating. It had been the Ministry official who had shuffled him off to this waiting room, "for his own safety", as if he was a child. He'd fought Voldemort, for God's Sake! Surely he could handle a little thing like witnessing a Wizard's Duel.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, thoroughly mussing it up. Although he'd dressed with care in his best robes this morning in honour of the occasion, he'd long since abandoned his outer robe. He'd also unbuttoned the collar of his shirt as he paced, feeling as nervous as a kneazel in a room full of krups.

"This is stupid," he complained for the fifth time. "This is my _life_ we're talking about. Why can't I watch the duel?"

Ron, Hermione, and Remus Lupin exchanged amused looks before looking back at their friend.

"Usually, the person in contention is a child," Hermione reminded him, having read up on the subject once Harry had told her about his predicament. "It would be too frightening for a child to watch a Wizard's duel."

"Not to mention distracting for your Champion," Lupin added. "Severus is going to need every advantage he can get against Lucius Malfoy."

Harry turned to him, an anxious look on his face. "Do you think he's good enough to beat Malfoy?"

"Severus is an excellent duellist," Lupin said soothingly. "I've practiced with him myself over the past two weeks."

"Yeah, but Malfoy's a cheating Slytherin," Ron pointed out.

Lupin grinned. "So is Severus." He reached out to grasp Harry's shoulder. "Be patient, Harry. Sirius and Albus are in there with him, and they'll let us know the minute the duel is over."

Harry sighed. "I know." He looked at his watch and moaned. "How long is this damned thing going to go on?"

"Relax, Harry," Ron said and handed him a glass of ice water from the table of refreshments. He doubted Harry would be able to keep down anything else. "You know how the Ministry is about these things. The bloke officiating is probably still flapping his mouth about the rules and such."

Harry gave him a grateful look as he took the glass of water. Ron had matured a lot in the past few years, he realized, and hadn't even pitched a fit when he found out whom Harry had to marry. The Ministry had been in a shambles after the war, and Ron had abandoned his own plans to pitch in and help his father, the new Minister of Magic, straighten things out. Harry thought that it was appropriate that Ron's reward had been Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports following the discovery that Ludo Bagman was on Voldemort's side.

"Thanks, Ron," he said and slumped down into one of the chairs. "I'm glad you two are here with me."

"Where else would we be?" Ron asked, grinning at him. "Just like old times, seeing you in the middle of a mess."

Hermione nodded as she sat down on the other side of him. She'd taken time off from her studies in Social and Political Science at Royal Holloway to be with him today, and he was grateful that she was there. "While I don't approve of this whole archaic law, it could have been worse. Professor Snape isn't all that horrid, once you get to know him."

Harry sighed and hoped that she was right.

Almost fifteen minutes later, the door burst open and Sirius almost fell into the room. Harry was out of his chair in an instant.

"Sirius? Is everything all right? Is the fight over? Who won?"

"Who won?" Sirius asked, a grin on his face. "Snape, of course. I _told_ you he was the best man for the job, much as I hate to admit it. And don't you dare tell him I said that."

Harry sagged in relief. "Snape won."

"It was a close match, though," Sirius admitted. "Malfoy threw some curses I'd never even _heard_ of, much less seen. Gave Snape a bit of a hard time for a while."

"Is he all right?" Harry asked, concerned. The man had been fighting to protect him, after all, no matter how Harry felt about him personally.

"He'll be fine. They're patching him up right now, and then you can go in - "

"Patching him up?" Harry said sharply. "What the hell - " He dashed out of the room in the direction of the Duelling Hall, and Sirius hurried after him.

"Harry! Wait! What do you think you're doing?" he bellowed as he followed the young wizard. Ron, Hermione, and Lupin exchanged a look, then Hermione grabbed Harry's robe and they went after him.

Meanwhile, Harry had burst into the Duelling Hall to find the place in chaos. Lucius Malfoy was lying flat out on the floor, his chin swelling and his blood dripping from a split lip onto his elegant white shirt. The shirt itself was singed in several places, as was the long blond hair. Lucius appeared to be out cold as well.

The others in the room were ignoring Lucius in favour of the man sitting on the floor with his head tilted back, a bloodstained handkerchief pressed against his prodigious nose. Dumbledore was looking down at Snape with amused fondness, and as Harry entered, he looked up and smiled.

"Harry! Come in, my dear boy. We were just about to send for you. No, Severus," he added, pressing on the shoulder of the seated man. "Stay where you are and let Poppy finish her work."

Harry blinked as he recognized Madame Pomfrey, and he wondered why she was here instead of one of the Ministry mediwizards. She didn't seem too pleased, either, as she was muttering something under her breath about "brawling like common hooligans" as she poured something down Snape's throat.

"I thought this was a _wizard's_ duel," Harry said as Sirius joined Harry in the doorway, "not a fistfight."

"It was," chuckled a man standing to the side. By the look of his robes, Harry decided he was a member of the Ministry, probably there to validate the duel. "Mr. Snape was just returning Mr. Malfoy's wand when he - Mr. Malfoy, that is - said something. Made Mr. Snape mad, it did. Popped the bas- er, bloke in the mouth. 'Course Malfoy got in his own shot - can't miss that nose by much, can you? - but Snape put him right out on the floor."

He chuckled again, then held out his hand to Harry. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter. If you'll just sign this document - here, and then again here." Harry did. "Very good, sir." He tapped the document and it duplicated into two scrolls. He rolled up one and handed to Harry. "For the witnesses to sign. I will see you again tomorrow to verify that the marriage has been consummated, but until then I wish you joy, Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter- _Snape_ , I should say. Good day."

Harry looked down at the scroll, looked up at the back of the retreating man, then back down at the scroll. _Damn_ , he thought faintly. _I think I just got married._

"Harry?" Harry looked up to see Dumbledore looking at him, concern clear in his eyes. "Are you all right, my boy?"

Harry silently handed Dumbledore the scroll, and the Headmaster quickly scanned down it before briskly nodding. "I knew we could count on Ignatius to get the paperwork sorted properly. Congratulations, Harry."

"Am I...married, then?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's shrewd eyes studied him. "It will be all right, Harry, in the end. You'll see."

"Yes, sir," Harry said automatically, even as he wondered how Dumbledore could possibly think that.

He glanced over at where Madame Pomfrey had finally finished with Snape. Harry couldn't help staring at Snape as he rose to his feet. This was the man who had hated him all throughout his years at Hogwarts and was now irrevocably married to him. Snape had abandoned his long robes in favour of the shorter duelling-style robe and trousers he'd worn back when Harry was a Second year, and Harry couldn't help but notice that they looked good on him. They were worse for wear at the moment, torn and singed in more than a few places, and a particularly long and jagged tear had reduced the right leg of his trousers to tatters. Harry winced at the thought of what that had done to Snape's leg. There was a partially healed cut across Snape's left cheek as well, and his hair was in complete disarray.

For the first time, Harry was forcibly struck by the risk this man had taken on his behalf - another in a series of risks, really. He was torn by conflicting feelings of gratitude and resentment, and forced his attention away from Snape, focusing instead on his godfather's concerned face.

"Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry managed to drag up a smile. "I'm fine. So - what happens next?" It was only after he asked that he wondered if he really wanted to know.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

What happened next, apparently, was a party at Snape's house.

Correction - _their_ house, as per the signed contract in his hand.

Harry stood in the middle of Snape's living room -Dumbledore had arranged for port keys to take them to Snape's house - staring at the scroll he still clutched in his hand. It seemed surreal, almost as bizarre as the sight of Sirius helping himself at the sumptuous buffet table across the room, or Ron offering his polite congratulations to Snape. Harry stared blankly at the scroll and had to resist the urge to toss the scroll in the fireplace and yell, "April Fool's!"

"I'll take that, Potter," Snape said sharply, and Harry reluctantly released his grip on the now-crumpled scroll.

He watched numbly as Snape laid the scroll and a quill on a small side table. Dumbledore immediately walked over to the table and signed it and then, to his surprise, Ron.

"What's that about?" Harry asked Hermione.

She looked at him in surprise. "All of the witnesses are required to sign, Harry, ascertaining that the marriage took place and that Snape offered the proper hospitality to the bridal party."

Harry flinched at the word "bridal" and said, irritably, "'Proper hospitality'? They take away points if the sandwiches don't have the crusts cut off or something?"

Hermione gave him a disapproving look. "Really, Harry. I would think you'd be more grateful to Professor Snape. He _did_ just save you from having to marry Lucius Malfoy."

Harry suddenly felt anything _but_ grateful. This was _not_ how he had expected his wedding to be, the few times he'd thought about getting married. He remembered the pictures from his parents' wedding with all their friends around, and compared that to his wand-point non-wedding and this shabby little reception, and felt horribly cheated by Fate. He didn't care that he was acting like a spoiled brat at the moment. Once again, he'd had a chance at something "normal" snatched away from him, and he didn't know who to hate more: Malfoy, Sirius, or Snape.

"Right," Harry said bitterly. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am."

"Well, you should be," she said firmly. "Put this on," she added, handing him his dress robe. "And straighten your collar."

He gave her an incredulous look, not believing she was concerned about his clothes when his _life_ was falling apart around him. "Why are you worrying about how _I_ look? Snape's the one whose robes are in tatters! Why don't you give _him_ fashion tips?"

"Those are _honour_ marks, Harry," she explained patiently. "The house-elves will preserve his robes so your descendents can see how well he fought for you. Honestly, didn't you read the book I gave you?"

"As if I wanted to learn more about this whole mess, considering that it's _Snape_."

Hermione looked at him in a way that made Harry suddenly feel about ten years old. "Don't you think it's about time you grew up?"

His jaw dropped and he watched in surprise as she crossed the room to sign the scroll, then went up to Snape. She must have been offering her congratulations because Snape gravely inclined his head and said something in response to her that - for once - appeared to be polite. She gestured in Harry's direction, and when Snape looked over, the man's gaze caught Harry. Snape's expression was inscrutable, his eyes intense, and Harry flushed as he tore his eyes away.

"He's not so bad, Harry."

Harry looked around at Lupin in disbelief. "Not you, too! After everything he's said and done to you -are you trying to make me believe he's just a sweet, misunderstood soul?"

Lupin laughed. "No, not that. Severus is a sneaky, conniving bastard. His tongue can peel your hide and his sarcasm will shrivel your soul. He's opinionated and stubborn to a fault, can hold onto a grudge for longer than anyone I know - except maybe Sirius -and he is blinkered against those who can't meet his standards." He paused. "He's sharp-witted and clever as well, absolutely committed to his principles - peculiar though they may be - and will sacrifice his life without a second thought for two people. Albus Dumbledore is one. You are the other."

Harry blinked. "Are you trying to tell me that Snape is in love with me?"

Lupin shook his head. "Not at all. I don't think he knows what love is, although what he feels for Albus may come close. Which isn't surprising, given his background." His shrewd eyes seemed to bore through Harry. "I don't think you do, either."

Defensively, Harry said, "Hey! I love plenty of people! Sirius, and Ron, and Hermione, and...and..."

"Harry," Lupin said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You _care_ about others, yes, but I don't think you trust anyone enough to truly love them. But maybe someday..." He squeezed Harry's shoulder and smiled. "I'd better go sign the marriage scroll now. It looks like Severus is getting ready to toss out the lot of us."

Harry swung around to see that the party was, indeed, winding down. In fact, Hermione and Ron were heading his way, obviously coming to say their good-byes. Panic suddenly overwhelmed him - what was he supposed to do, alone here with Snape? The answer was immediately obvious, and he could feel his face flushing.

"Breathe, mate, or you'll never make it through the honeymoon," Ron teased him, and then said, "Ow!" as Hermione elbowed him sharply.

Hermione ignored her fianc as she hugged Harry. "Congratulations, Harry. It'll be all right - just have a little faith."

Harry tried to smile but he knew it looked forced. "Yeah," he said. "Come back for a visit when you have the time."

Ron nodded and hugged Harry as well. "Just let me know when Snape's out and I'll pop over. Maybe do a pub crawl one night."

"Ron!"

"Come off it, Hermione. You know Snape won't want to see me any more than I want to see him. He'll probably count the silver the minute I leave."

Harry laughed at that and said good-bye. Lupin came over to say farewell, too, and before Harry knew it, he was standing in the room with just Sirius. He looked around surreptitiously.

"Where's Sna- " He paused, not sure what he should call the man who was now his husband. "Snape" didn't seem right, but "Severus" felt too strange in his mouth.

"Gone up to get ready," Sirius said. "You need to do the same."

Harry flushed and said, "Um, yeah, I suppose. Where...?"

"Follow me. Snape showed me your room earlier."

Harry followed Sirius up the stairs, his feet feeling like they weighed a ton. As they entered the bedroom, Sirius took a look at him and sighed. "Harry, it's not as bad as all that. If you can't stand the thought of Snape touching you like that, pretend it's someone else you've been with."

Harry flushed and looked around at the room so he wouldn't have to look at his godfather. Right now, he wasn't too happy with the man, and he knew it would show in his eyes.

The room was actually very nice. It was a masculine room, decorated in blue and cream and light oak. A large window appeared to look over the grounds, and a cosy reading chair was placed in front of it. There was an open door in the wall to his right - probably leading to the bathroom, since a large wardrobe filled the rest of the space along that wall. A large bed took up the wall to his left, and Harry found his eyes drawn inexorably to it. An old-fashioned nightshirt was draped across the bed and Harry hastily looked away.

"There hasn't _been_ anyone else," he muttered, realizing that Sirius was looking at him in concern.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulling him around so he could see Harry's face. "Are you telling me that you're a - "

"Virgin," Harry said with a sigh.

"Merlin save us," Sirius groaned. "Why didn't you _say_ something? I could have taken you to a place I know and taken care of that."

"It's not a _disease_ ," Harry said crossly. "And I don't see how hiring a prostitute would have helped."

"I didn't mean it like that," Sirius protested, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just - well, I'd lost mine by the time I was fifteen, and your father'd gone through at least half the girls _and_ boys by the time we left school."

 _Not Snape_ , Harry hoped. _That would be just too weird._ Out loud he said, "I'm not my father."

Sirius sighed. "I know you're not, Harry. I realized that years ago. And look - just so you don't worry - James and Snape never did it, I swear."

Harry felt his ire drain out of him and sat down on the bed. It wasn't Sirius' fault, after all. "Sorry. Guess I'm just a little nervous."

"You've got a right to be," Sirius admitted. "Just relax and let it happen. Snape'll know what he's doing." Sirius paused. "I hope."

Harry groaned and flopped back on the bed. "Great. Just great," he muttered. "Look, you don't have to wait around here. Remus is probably waiting for you to come home."

Sirius gave him a puzzled look. "Harry, I'm your second. I'll be staying here tonight, to verify the marriage."

Harry could feel all the blood drain from his face. "You're going to _watch_?"

Sirius gave him a pained look. "Of course not. Albus and I will be sitting outside the room, guarding it."

Harry managed a weak smile. "From people trying to get in, or me trying to get out?"

"It's traditional," Sirius said, shrugging.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered.

"You'd better get changed before Snape gets here," Sirius said, picking up the nightshirt.

"Um, no offence, Sirius, but I wear pyjamas to bed."

"Not tonight, you don't," Sirius said. "It's - "

"I know. Traditional." He started removing his clothes, too cross to care about the damage he was doing to them. Once he'd removed his shirt, he pulled the nightshirt over his head and sat down to remove his shoes and trousers. He debated about removing his pants, but the thought of standing about in a gown with nothing underneath was a bit too much.

Standing up again, he said, "Well, how do I look?"

Sirius suddenly hugged him, hard. "God, Harry, I'm so sorry to put you through this. I should have found some other way."

Harry buried his face against Sirius' shoulder. "There wasn't," he said gruffly. "Better Snape than Malfoy."

"Yeah," Sirius muttered. "But not by much."

Harry realized that, now that the Malfoy-danger was over, Sirius' old animosity towards Snape was rising again and was almost glad to hear the door open.

"All ready?" Dumbledore asked as he entered the room, a genial smile on his face.

"Um, yeah," Harry said, extracting himself from Sirius' embrace. He glanced at Snape and realized that the man was dressed in a nightshirt, too. He wondered if the other man was wearing anything underneath, and flushed as he looked away.

"Right," Sirius said, looking uncomfortable himself. "Well. We'll just be outside, then. Guarding. 'Night, Harry."

Harry could see Snape smirking as Sirius left the room at just short of a run, and he scowled. Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, then smiled at both of them. "I wish you both much joy," he said formally.

Harry knew he was blushing again, but he was surprised to see that Snape suddenly looked uncertain. "Albus..."

Dumbledore gently touched Snape's cheek, and Harry was surprised to see tenderness in the gesture. "It will be all right, my dear boy. You'll see."

Snape's mouth twisted. "Maybe _you_ think so, but I no longer believe in miracles."

"That's quite all right, Severus; I'll believe in them _for_ you." He patted Snape's cheek before stepping back. "And I believe in you."

Harry watched Dumbledore leave the room, closing the door securely behind him, then looked at Snape. Surprisingly, the man seemed almost as embarrassed as _he_ was.

"Um, what now?" Harry said, carefully not looking at the bed.

"I would think that would be obvious, even to you, Potter." Snape walked over to the small table by the window, poured the flask sitting there into a glass, and walked back to Harry. "Here. Drink this."

Harry drank it, and then belatedly wondered what Snape had given him. "What was that stuff?"

Snape scowled at him. "Idiot boy - you should have asked _before_ drinking it. I could have poisoned you."

"At this point, poison would be a blessing," Harry muttered, eyeing the bed uneasily. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes," Snape said flatly. "That officious twit from the Ministry will be back at an ungodly hour of the morning, Potter. He will make us take Veritaserum and affirm that the marriage has been consummated. If it has not, the contract is immediately annulled and Malfoy's claim will take precedence." He sneered at Harry. "And I promise you that your missish whinging will not impress Lucius in the least."

"I am _not_ whinging!" Harry said, glaring at Snape. Or at least he tried to glare. For some odd reason, his muscles seemed reluctant to obey him. "What _did_ you give me?"

"A simple relaxant." Snape gave him a little push towards the bed. "It occurred to me that this might go better if you weren't petrified with fear or tossing up your guts."

"You think?" Harry said sarcastically. He sat on the bed, relieved that the world seemed to stop spinning when he did so.

"Now, as to the matter at hand," Snape said briskly, moving to the other side of the bed and laying his wand down on the night table. "There will be no romantic nonsense such as kissing. I top exclusively. I am willing to be flexible as far as positions are concerned, so if you have a preferred one, now is the time to mention it - really, Potter, if you embarrass this easily, it's a wonder you get laid at all."

"I don't," Harry muttered. "I mean, I haven't."

Snape froze in place and then turned slowly towards him. "I beg your pardon? What did you say?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I said I haven't. Gotten laid, I mean. This is my first time."

"Merlin's balls," Snape groaned, sitting down on the bed as if the strength had suddenly left his body. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you were a virgin, Potter?"

"I did," Harry said. "Sirius. Just tonight. And now you."

"Just - Potter, is it possible that anyone could be more of an idiot than you?"

Harry glared at him. "What's the problem with that?"

"The 'problem', Potter," Snape snarled at him, "is that I am no one's idea of an ideal first time. If you had spoken up, a prior arrangement could have been made - "

"If I had wanted to pay someone to have sex with me," Harry said between clenched teeth. "I would have done so before now. I'm not a complete idiot. I was...waiting."

Snape frowned. "For what?" Harry flushed and bit his lip, then looked away, and Snape understood. "Damn all idealistic Gryffindors to hell! What, expecting your True Love to sweep you off your feet and carry you off to live happily ever after, Potter?"

"Do you think you could _possibly_ call me 'Harry'?" Harry snapped at him. "After all, we're married and in bed together. I think a little informality is appropriate."

"Pot- Harry," Snape said, grinding his teeth. "True love is a myth. If you're lucky, you fall in lust with someone who is equally lust-ridden for you, someone you can just about tolerate later when the novelty has worn off."

The thought was depressing, and Harry _would_ have been depressed if it weren't for the fact that he was too relaxed at the moment to care. "What about you?" he asked idly. "Was your first time with someone you'd 'fallen in lust' with?"

He tried to picture Snape torn by lust and found it impossible to imagine. Although really, the man wasn't so bad looking in the candlelight, and his hair looked surprisingly soft and clean. Must have had a bit of a wash before coming to bed, Harry thought. He flushed, more than a little freaked out at finding Snape attractive in any way.

Snape didn't seem to notice. Instead, he glared at Harry. "That is none of your business. Suffice it to say that I have enough experience to make this tolerable for both of us. And that is all I shall say on the subject."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Still protecting me, Professor?"

Snape's lips twitched and for a moment Harry thought he was going to smile as well. "The habit appears to be difficult to break."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but I'm not relaxed anymore," Harry said with a sigh. "Any more of that potion on hand?"

"It would be deleterious for you to take more so soon," Snape replied.

Harry scowled at him. "Do you think you could use regular words every now and then? Just for the novelty of it?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Idiot boy. If you took another dose right now, it would relax you into a coma. Plain enough for you?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"There should still be enough residual effects," Snape said. "Lie down and close your eyes. Breathe slowly and evenly, and let your mind drift."

Harry obeyed and found that his body quickly relaxed again. There was a shifting on the bed beside him and a quiet murmur of "Nox". He opened his eyes slightly and was relieved to find that the room was in total darkness. He didn't think he could do this if he knew Snape was looking at him.

"Turn on your side," Snape's voice murmured in the darkness, and Harry shivered. He'd never really noticed that voice before - probably because it was usually belittling him - but in the darkness it sounded like dark honey being poured over his body.

He shifted onto his side and felt Snape move in close behind him. "Relax, Harry," the man murmured and Harry felt strong fingers massaging his back and shoulders. With a sigh, he let himself completely relax, trusting Snape to get them through this ordeal as easily as possible.

"Well, you _can_ follow directions after all," Snape's voice murmured and Harry snorted, but he was too relaxed to care. "You'll feel a slight tingle now, nothing to worry about."

Harry felt the tingle around and inside his arse, and he jumped. "You might have said _where_ I'd feel the tingle," he complained. "What was that about?"

"Cleansing and lubrication spell," Snape murmured. "Surely you remember the sex education lecture in your Sixth year?"

"Pomfrey didn't say anything about spells," Harry retorted. "Although lube was one of her favourite topics - manually applied."

"Spells are more thorough," Snape said shortly.

 _And less personal,_ Harry thought. He wasn't at all surprised that Snape chose this method, and was actually rather relieved. The thought of Snape poking about his bum with his fingers was very off-putting. Not that he was aroused at the moment, in any case.

Snape's hands were moving across his lower back now, rubbing soothing circles. "Would you prefer to keep the nightshirts on, or take them off?"

Harry felt slightly queasy at the idea of being starkers in bed with Snape and said hastily, "Keep them on. If that's all right."

"It makes no difference to me," Snape replied. His hands moved lower and then he sighed. "You _will_ need to remove your underwear, however."

Harry flushed. He was once again grateful for the darkness as he pulled up his gown to remove the offending pants. Snape's hand stilled him as he would have tugged the gown back down into place, and he wondered just how clearly the other man could see in the dark.

"Leave it up," Snape said. "It will just get in the way."

"Right," Harry muttered and wondered if he could get any redder. Evidently he could, because when Snape's questing hand touched his prick, he could feel his skin burning and couldn't help jerking away. "What are you doing?"

Snape sighed. "It will make it easier for you if you are aroused, but if you'd rather I didn't..."

Harry cleared his throat. "All right, then. Go ahead, if you must."

"Thank you for that rousing approval," Snape said sourly, but he was touching Harry's prick again, so he supposed Snape couldn't be too upset with him.

It felt...odd to have someone else touching him like that, odd and somehow more intense than touching himself. Snape seemed to know exactly what to do, gripping him just the way he liked and efficiently stroking him to hardness. Harry's eyes slid shut as pleasure filled him, and he couldn't help moaning.

"Good," Snape's voice said near his ear, and his eyes flew open. He'd almost forgotten it was Snape doing this to him. Another series of strokes and he didn't care if it was Voldemort himself as long as he didn't stop doing _that_. A murmured instruction from Snape had him slide one leg forward, then something solid was nudging his backside.

"Breathe out and push out at the same time," Snape's voice instructed, then paused. "Potter, are you paying attention?"

"Mmmm," Harry agreed. He hadn't the faintest idea what Snape was saying, but it didn't matter. Pleasure was boiling through his veins, tingling along his skin.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin...Potter, obey me or I'll stop."

Snape sounded annoyed - and serious - so Harry retrieved enough brain cells to focus on doing what Snape had instructed. Something thick and hot pressed into him, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. It didn't _hurt_ per se, but he felt uncomfortably full. Then Snape was stroking him again, firm and hard, and Harry forgot all about what was going on behind him in favour of his prick and the climax that was suddenly roaring down on him like a freight train.

He was vaguely aware of Snape shuddering and gasping behind him, but his mind and body were too wiped to care about much of anything. He thought he heard Snape ask him something in a concerned tone of voice, but since that was clearly impossible, he allowed sleep to claim him completely.

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

Harry slowly drifted up from sleep, rolled on his back and stretched - and immediately wished he hadn't.

"Bugger!"

A voice next to him said dryly, "Observant, aren't we? And if you'd simply _paid_ _attention_ last night, you wouldn't be having this problem."

Harry opened his eyes and glared at Snape. "Sod off, Snape."

Snape held up a small vial and sneered at him. "I wouldn't be so hasty, Potter. I hold in my hand the means to relieve what troubles you."

"What do you want me to do - give you a kiss for it?" Harry snapped.

"Last night, I would have given it to you for nothing. This morning...a 'please' will be sufficient."

"Please," Harry ground out. Snape unstoppered the vial and handed it to him, and Harry swallowed it. "God, don't you make anything that tastes decent?"

"Stop whinging, Potter."

Before Harry could say anything back, there was a tap on the bedroom door and then it opened. The Ministry official Harry'd met the previous day hurried in, a beaming smile on his face, with Dumbledore and Sirius right behind him.

"Good morning, good morning!" the official said cheerfully.

Harry saw Snape wince and smugly noted that his new husband didn't seem to be much of a morning person. Harry propped himself up against the headboard, pulling the bedcovers up to his neck, and waited for the explosion.

However, before Snape could say anything, the official had set his briefcase down on the bed and was pulling papers out of it. "So glad you are both awake, and I won't take any more of your time than necessary. There are just a few little forms to fill out. First, have either of you eaten or drunk anything this morning?"

"No," Snape said shortly.

"Yes," Harry said. "Um, a pain potion."

Sirius growled. "Just why did you need to take a pain potion, Harry?" he demanded, glaring at Snape.

Snape gave Sirius one of his most irritatingly smug looks and Dumbledore said hastily, "That's of no importance right now."

"Do you have a sample of the potion?" the Ministry official asked.

Harry handed him the vial and the man tapped it with his wand. "Right. Just a basic analgesic and muscle relaxant. Shouldn't interfere with the Veritaserum at all." He placed the vial in an envelope and put it in his briefcase, then began rummaging. "Now, I know I have a vial of it in here somewhere..."

"Allow me, Ignatius," Dumbledore said, holding out a clear vial.

The official took the vial and tapped it with his wand. A delighted look crossed his face. "Yes, this will do very nicely, very nicely indeed! As pure a sample of Veritaserum as I've ever had to the pleasure to work with. Yours, Professor?" he asked, glancing over at Snape.

"Yes, it is one of Severus' batches," Dumbledore affirmed. "Will that be a problem?"

"No, indeed! We in the Department of Magical Contracts rarely get a chance to work with the 'good stuff', as it were," Ignatius said, beaming at Dumbledore and then at Snape. "I will be the envy of my fellows, I can tell you that. Professor, if you'll let me place two drops on your tongue?"

Appearing stunned by the compliment, Snape opened his mouth without question, and Ignatius carefully placed two drops on his tongue. He then moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the procedure with Harry.

"Now, then, just a few questions to complete the contract." After having them verify their identities he said, "Was the marriage completely consummated last night?"

"Yes," Snape said quickly.

Harry looked doubtful. "What do you mean by 'completely'? If you mean, did Snape fuck me - yes, he did. If you mean did I fuck him - "

"That will be quite enough, Potter," Snape said coldly.

Harry scowled at him. "You're not the one wanting to know."

"Yes, yes, that'll be fine," Ignatius said hastily. He scrawled his name on the bottom of the contract, then had Dumbledore and Sirius witness it. Once that was done, he rolled it up, tapped it with his wand, and a ribbon with an official looking seal wrapped around it.

"That's done, then," he said briskly, setting the contract inside the briefcase. "I'll file this when I get back in the office. Should you wish an official copy for your personal files, one will be available after 30 days." He shook both Harry and Snape's hands. "Congratulations, gentlemen. I hope that your contract will be very beneficial to both of you. Albus, if you'll show me out?"

"Certainly, Ignatius," Dumbledore said, and followed him out of the room.

There was an ominous silence in the room for a moment after the pair left, then Sirius said, "Why did Harry need a pain potion, Snape? What did you do to him?"

Snape smirked. "Why, deflowered your virgin boy, of course. And remember, it was _your_ idea."

"Bastard," Sirius growled, then turned to Harry. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

Harry was caught by the demands of the Veritaserum still running through his system. On the one hand, Snape had been remarkably considerate the previous night, and Harry hadn't been aware of any pain at the time. On the other hand, Harry had been in considerable discomfort this morning, and was still feeling rather tender. His stomach roiled.

"I have to use the loo." He fled into the bathroom and promptly lost the contents of his stomach.

He was vaguely aware of someone else entering the bathroom as he tried to convince his guts to stop heaving. "Here," said a quiet voice, and a glass of some milky-looking substance appeared before him. He took it and forced down a swallow, and was surprised when it didn't come back up immediately. In fact, it seemed to stop the heaves, not to mention the spinning of the room around him.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Convenient being married to a Potions master, I suppose."

"I could hardly have you vomit to death on the morning after our wedding," Snape said dryly. "Think what that would do to my reputation." Harry gave an involuntary snort of laughter. "Your godfather has gone on his way. Shower, brush your teeth, and come back out when you're done. The house-elves will have breakfast waiting."

The bathroom door clicked shut and Harry dragged himself to his feet. Taking his time, he showered thoroughly and brushed his teeth twice. Deciding he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, he returned to the bedroom.

A familiar looking trunk was sitting at the end of the bed, and Harry was surprised as he realized his things had already arrived from his flat. He opened the wardrobe to see that the house-elves had already hung up his clothes, and then frowned when he realized that his clothes were the only ones hanging there. A quick look in the dresser verified that his things occupied the drawers alone.

"Is Master Harry needing something?"

Harry swung around to see a house-elf dressed in a pristine tea towel was standing by the bed. "Um, yes. Professor Snape's things. His clothes and such. Where are they?"

The house-elf looked surprised. "In Master Severus' room, sir."

Harry frowned, absorbing the fact that Snape apparently kept his things in another room, and wondered angrily if the man thought Harry would steal his precious belongings.

"May I be helping Master Harry dress?"

"No," Harry said shortly, jerking open the drawers to pull out a shirt, jeans, and his most comfortable pair of boxers. "But you can show me where that bas - where 'Master Severus' is when I'm dressed." He quickly dressed and tried unsuccessfully to do something with his hair, then gave up. "Can I ask your name?" he asked the house-elf as he followed her out of the room.

"I is Pippa, sir," the house-elf said with a bright smile, and began chattering quite happily about the house and the other occupants as she led him down the stairs to the dining room. Harry thought she seemed very cheerful for someone in Snape's employ - he half expected Snape's servants to be cowering in fear.

"Breakfast, Master Harry, sir," Pippa said, as they entered the dining room. Harry saw that Snape was already seated at the table, hidden behind the _Daily Prophet_ , and his eyes widened at the sight of the heavily laden table. "Is there anything you be needing, Master Harry?"

"Um, no," Harry said, feeling a little queasy at the sight of all the food.

Snape poked his head out from behind the paper and gave him an impatient look. "Sit down and eat, Potter. My house-elves apparently think you are wasting away to nothing; this is all in your honour."

"Um, I don't think I can eat much," Harry said as he carefully took a seat.

Snape gave him an appraising look. "Pippa, fetch the purple flask from my bathroom, please." Harry raised an eyebrow at the sound of Snape saying 'please' and cautiously nibbled on a piece of toast. The house-elf returned with the requested item and Snape poured half of it into a glass of pumpkin juice, stirred it, and then handed it to Harry. "Drink that. It will help settle the nauseating effects of the Veritaserum."

Harry looked doubtful but took a sip of the juice. To his surprise, it remained down, and he drank the rest of it. His stomach immediately stopped rolling and he sighed with relief.

Harry glanced down the table at Snape, wanting to thank him for the potion, and saw that he'd retreated behind his paper again. On the front page, Harry saw that the news about their nuptials had already broken. "Boy Who Lived Weds In Secret" was blazoned across the front of the paper, and underneath it were separate pictures of him and Snape. Snape's picture glared at him across the table and he glared back, suddenly remembering that he was angry with Snape.

"Is there a reason why your things are in another room?"

Snape lowered the paper and gave him a questioning look. "I was under the impression that separate bedrooms would be preferable to you as well as to myself."

Harry blinked at that, and felt a sudden wave of relief at the realization that he wouldn't have to sleep with Snape every night. "Um, yeah."

"On the occasions when I desire marital congress, I will, of course, inform you before coming to your room."

Harry's stomach flopped again. "I..."

"It shouldn't occur more than once or twice a month, as I am quite accustomed to satisfying my own needs," Snape continued. "I trust that will be acceptable to you?"

"Yeah," Harry said glumly. It was, after all, part of the marriage contract and Snape was within his rights to ask for more. Hell, he could ask for a baby, if he wanted one.

Snape watched Harry toying with his food. "Is something wrong, Potter?"

"No. I just..." Harry sighed. "Everyone always talks about what a big deal sex is, but it just...well, it was _okay_ , but it wasn't fantastic."

"I will endeavour to provide more satisfaction next time," Snape said dryly.

Harry flushed. "That's not what I mean. The way you...when you touched me like that...it was nice. It was better than when I touch myself. But the other part...do people really _like_ that?"

Snape shrugged. "It is quite pleasurable for the one doing the penetrating, and I'm given to understand that many enjoy bottoming. I, myself, find being buggered less than satisfying."

"Yeah," Harry said, picking at his eggs with his fork. "Not that I'm complaining or anything." He looked up at Snape. "And you don't bottom."

"No," Snape said shortly. "If you wish to experience the pleasures of topping, you will have to look elsewhere." He folded his newspaper and set it down on the table. "Now, if you have quite finished torturing those eggs, I will give you a tour of the house before I start work."

Harry nodded and finished his tea. "I'm done."

"Very well, then." Snape stood up and began speaking in what Harry recognized as his lecturing voice. "This, as you can see, is the dining room. Breakfast and dinner will be served here whenever either of us is in the house. You may take lunch whenever and wherever you choose. Through that door are the kitchens. We have two house-elves; please refrain from pestering them at all hours of the day and night. If you espouse your friend Granger's beliefs about house-elf rights, I would prefer you to keep them to yourself. Pippa and Toby have been with me for many years, and I have become rather accustomed to them."

"Right," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Leading Harry into the foyer, he gestured towards the room Harry had seen the previous evening during the reception, "That is the sitting room, and the library is next to it - not that you'll have any use for that. Down this hall is my workshop. You are not - for any reason short of dire emergency - to enter my workshop. Is that understood?"

 _Wonderful_ , Harry thought as he nodded. _My home for the next God-knows-how many years, and I feel like an unwelcome guest in it._

"Upstairs, there are three bedrooms, each with a private bath," Snape said, gesturing towards the stairs. "You have already seen your room. Mine is next to it, and the guest room is across the hallway." Snape took in a deep breath and said, in the tones of one grimly prepared to be sociable even if it killed him, "Please feel free to invite your friends to visit. However, if you plan on inviting your godfather, kindly inform me so that I may make plans to be elsewhere."

Harry grinned at that, feeling oddly warmed by Snape's allowances.

"I will, of course, be returning to Hogwarts at the end of the week when the students return from Easter Break. However, I will endeavour to return during the school year when my schedule permits me, as well as the summer and holidays," Snape continued. "I would appreciate it if you would provide me with a copy of your schedule, so that I know when your games occur."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Becoming a fan, Snape? Or just afraid you're going to miss me?"

Snape glared at him. "There are still those out there who would like nothing better than to do you an injury, Potter. Lucius Malfoy, in particular, will not take this change in his plans gracefully. If you were to turn up missing, it would help to know whether you had been abducted or were simply chasing your arse around the Pitch."

That sounded reasonable and Harry agreed. Snape relaxed a little and led the way through a French door onto a beautiful little patio. "Out here are the gardens. They are not extensive, however they provide many of the ingredients for my potions, so I would appreciate it if you and your companions didn't rampage through them."

"Hey! I don't rampage - or at least I haven't for years!"

"Of course," Snape said dryly. "Keep your Quidditch flying to the open field west of the house, if you please. On fine days, the house-elves serve afternoon tea here on the terrace. You are welcome to join me, or not, as you prefer. If you have any preferences as far as tea or cakes, make them known to Pippa."

Harry nodded and turned back to study the house. "It's very nice, Snape, but not at all what I imagined."

Snape's lip curled. "You were expecting something along the lines of Malfoy Manor -large and pretentious? By the time I came along, the Snape family had been reduced to genteel poverty, retaining little but our bloodline and our pride. My distant cousins reside in the crumbling remains of the ancestral home; I haven't been there since I was a boy." He looked up at the house and Harry could see the satisfaction in his face. "This is mine; I bought the land and built it. One day, I may pass it down to _my_ heirs."

Harry hastily skirted away from that issue, gesturing toward a small building on the other side of the terrace. "What's that?"

"That, Mr. Potter, is yours."

Harry frowned. "My what?"

"Your personal office or workroom - whatever you wish. You can store your rubbish there for all I care."

"Mine?" Harry asked, not daring to believe.

Snape frowned. "Is the concept too hard for you to grasp, Potter?"

Harry ignored him as he walked over to the building and opened the door, then looked inside. It wasn't large, about the size of Hagrid's cottage, but it was clean and bright and fresh with possibilities. There was a sense of newness about it, and Harry turned to look at Snape in surprise.

"It's not much, compared to your previous luxurious surroundings," Snape said coolly.

Harry grinned. His last place had been a furnished flat, shared with two other members of the team. Before that, it had been a small dormitory room with four roommates. And before that...

"It's perfect," he murmured, running his hand over the smooth walls. It _was_ new -Harry would have bet his life on that. Snape must have had this built just for him. He felt an odd tightening in his throat.

Snape sneered. "Don't try to flatter me, Potter. Compared to your Muggle relatives' home - "

"It's heaven," Harry said, continuing to circle the room, soaking up the feel of the place. "The Dursleys treated me like dirt - they kept me under the staircase for ten years. When my Hogwarts letter came, they put me in Dudley's second bedroom, but only because they were afraid. Of course, they put bars on the windows and locked me in most of the time."

Snape frowned. "Why would they do that?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his head. "Because they hated magic and everything to do with it, including me. I suppose they thought they could starve or beat it out of me." He gave Snape a wan smile. "Didn't work, of course."

Still frowning, Snape studied Harry's face as if looking for signs that the young man was lying. "Of course," he murmured. "'That which does not kill us - '"

" '- makes us stronger'," Harry finished with a small smile.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that you'd read Nietzsche, Potter."

"I haven't," Harry replied. "It was in 'Conan the Barbarian'." At Snape's blank look, he said helpfully, "A Muggle movie. Saw it on the telly one night when the Dursleys were out."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Impossible brat."

Harry felt a warm feeling roll through him. Already, this had the feel of something familiar and safe. "Insufferable git."

Snape gestured at the empty room. "You may furnish it as you wish. Pippa and Toby are aware of the merchants with whom I have accounts."

Harry frowned. "I have my own money," he said sharply. "I can pay for my own things."

"Good," Snape said, appearing not the least bit put out by Harry's declaration. "My salary, while generous, is not extensive, and I prefer to spend it on other things."

"Fine," Harry retorted.

"Well, now that we have that settled, I have work to do. I have wasted quite enough of my time this morning," Snape said and turned to leave.

Harry bit his lip; he knew that Snape was doing his best, and it wasn't fair to lash the man over his own pride. "Professor," he said quickly, then decided that didn't sound right. "Snape...er, Severus."

Snape turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. "Is there a reason why you are reciting my title and names?"

"Just trying to figure out what I should call you," Harry retorted.

Snape appeared to consider it for a moment. "Severus will be acceptable," he said.

Harry nodded. "And I'd appreciate it if you called me 'Harry' instead of 'Potter'." He smiled wryly. "After all, it's 'Potter-Snape' now, right?"

"Quite," Snape said, then seemed to recall something. He pulled a box out of his pocket. "This is yours as well. I would have given it to you yesterday, but there didn't appear to be an appropriate time."

He looked awkward, unlike his usual assured self, and Harry was reminded of the way Snape had looked at Dumbledore the previous evening. It made Harry feel uncomfortable to see Snape displaying anything less than complete control, and he quickly opened the box. "A ring?"

Snape nodded. "It is traditional, and Malfoy will expect to see you wearing one. To do otherwise would arouse suspicions."

"Right," Harry said. He slid the ring on his finger and felt it alter to fit him perfectly. "Thanks." He looked up and met Snape's eyes. "For everything."

Snape nodded again and quickly left. Harry stared at the ring for a long minute, a symbol of just how much his life had changed, and then determinedly turned his attention away from it and back to the room. His room, he thought with satisfaction as he imagined the possibilities. It was a start.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

Snape returned to Hogwarts at the end of the week, but as the Quidditch season had resumed, Harry had little time to notice his absence. There were some expectations for England in the World Cup, and the quarterfinal circuit was so gruelling, that Harry had little time for more than a hot shower and a sandwich before falling into bed.

Then in early May, England lost the latest round of games and so was out of the running for the Cup. Harry found himself at the house with unexpected free time on his hands. After sleeping nearly around the clock the first day, he spent the next morning puttering about his workshop. It had gotten rather untidy after weeks of infrequent use, especially as he'd asked the house-elves to leave the cottage to his care. Who would have guessed, he thought as he flicked a duster over the furniture, that he'd enjoy cleaning after all those years with the Dursleys. Maybe it was because it was _his_. He felt a certain pride in the way the place looked now that he'd fixed it up and had plans for spending some of his new free time here with his godfather and his friends.

The afternoon found him looking through the bookshelves in the library, both out of curiosity and to find something to read. The sound of someone arriving by Floo in the sitting room made him hurry into the room, book in one hand, wand in the other. Even though their Floo connection was private and warded, Harry had learned not to take anything for granted.

Snape was dusting himself off when Harry entered the room, and as he looked up, Harry thought he saw a brief flicker of approval in his eyes.

"Ah, I see you've located the library," Snape said. "Or were you planning on hurling books at intruders?"

Harry grinned and put away the wand. "Looking for something to amuse myself," he said, holding up the book.

Snape took a look at the title and raised an eyebrow. "Icabod Flinch's treatise on defensive spells and their history? I'd be impressed if I thought you had the slightest idea what you're getting into."

Harry's grin widened; damn, but he'd missed the man. "Irritable bastard."

"Idiotic brat," Snape retorted.

"So, what are you doing home?" Harry asked. "Exams are in six weeks - I thought you'd be busy terrifying the students out of their wits."

Snape snorted. "The majority of the students _have_ no wits. However, to answer your question, it's a Hogsmeade weekend and the thought of being shut up in the castle with students on a sugar high was more than I could bear."

Harry narrowed his eyes; Snape was avoiding looking at him and that couldn't be good. "What's wrong?"

Snape looked up and then away again, although Harry could see two faint spots of colour in his cheeks. "Nothing," Snape snapped back, then added diffidently. "It is one month today since our wedding, and I thought I'd come along tonight, if you had no other plans."

Harry knew exactly what Snape meant and he flushed. "Oh. Right." He drew in a deep breath, thinking of the contract and the way Snape had fought for him. "That'll be fine. I haven't any plans."

Snape nodded briskly. "Fine. I believe I will have a shower before dinner, then."

He left the room and Harry slumped into a chair, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair and trying not to think about the night. He'd been frankly relieved when Snape had left him alone after their one encounter on their wedding night, but he supposed it had been too much to hope that Snape had found it equally dissatisfying. He sighed; there wasn't anything he could do after all, so there was no point in worrying about it.

Talk at dinner was strained, both of them conscious of the plans for later that evening. Harry found himself feeling nostalgic for that first week after their wedding. With both of them home for the hols, they had fallen into the habit of taking meals together as well as sharing quiet evenings in front of the fire in the sitting room. Snape had an amazing range of knowledge about both the Wizard and Muggle world, and Harry had enjoyed talking with him. Harry grinned; well, actually, their talking had more like debating, but they'd both enjoyed the exercise and he'd found that Snape was much more tolerable as a person than a teacher.

He was thinking about some of those conversations when Snape cleared his throat, and he looked up at the man uncertainly.

"I was sorry to hear England won't be in the World Cup this year," Snape said, and Harry couldn't help smiling. It was obvious that Snape was trying to make polite conversation, something he was patently unskilled at doing. "Madam Hooch tells me that there is talk about retiring the current Seeker, to make way for you as reserve Seeker. She says that if their reserve had been playing against Brazil, England would have won."

Harry shrugged. "Not necessarily. Eloise is very good, and she has much more experience than I do. We had too many injuries this year."

"Too much modesty is just as great a fault as too little, Pot - Harry."

"It's not modesty," Harry objected. "I know I'm good, but playing professional Quidditch is a lot different from the school team. I still have a lot to learn and...." He hesitated and then looked over at Snape. "I'm not entirely sure that I want to keep playing Quidditch when my contract expires this fall."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? I thought this was a life dream."

Harry shrugged. "Not really. I mean, it's fun and I enjoy playing, but it doesn't feel...real, somehow. It's like I'm just wasting my time." He sighed. "That sounds stupid, I know - "

"No, it doesn't," Snape said quietly. "Harry, you're young, and you have your whole life in front of you. If Quidditch isn't what you feel passionate about, you should find something else that stirs your blood."

"Like you with potions, and Hermione with Minority Rights? Maybe. It's not like I have to make a decision today." The corner of Harry's mouth quirked up in a smile. "But thanks."

Both returned their attention to their plates. Harry realized his appetite had completely deserted him and he pushed back from the table. "Well, I think I'll get washed up and, um, prepared," he said, standing up. Snape didn't look up, just nodded, and Harry fled upstairs.

He debated wearing the nightshirt again, then decided it made him feel too silly. Pyjamas would do just as well; he'd remove the bottoms when necessary. He had just finished buttoning the shirt when a tap on the door made his heart jump. He hurriedly got into bed and called out for Snape to enter.

As before, Snape put out the lights after getting into bed, prepared him with a spell, then coaxed him to hardness before entering. Harry found it wasn't quite as strange or uncomfortable as the previous time, although he still failed to see what anyone could get out of being fucked up the arse. It was obvious what Snape got out of it. Harry could hear him breathing like a racehorse as he plunged in and out of Harry's body, and the shudders that shook his body as he climaxed were obvious indicators that he'd enjoyed himself.

Snape dutifully brought Harry off with his hand, but Harry felt oddly unsatisfied even as he floated down from a climax that was much better than the ones he got with his own hand. Not Snape's fault - there was obviously something abnormal about Harry. He lay silently in the bed, feigning sleep, as Snape cleaned them both up with a spell, and he pretended not to notice when the other man slipped out of the room shortly after that.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

Snape was gone in the morning, leaving behind a message that he was expecting some seedlings to arrive in a few weeks and would Harry endeavour _not_ to destroy or lose them.

Harry refused to be annoyed by either the abrupt desertion or the message. This was _his_ house, too, and if Snape thought he was going to just sit around twiddling his thumbs, he had another think coming. Instead, he planned to take the wind out of the man's sails by planting the damn things _and_ planting them right. Seven years of herbology had taught him a lot, and what he didn't know, he could owl Professor Sprout or Neville and ask.

He'd found the plans for the garden in the library, and none of the plantings appeared difficult or dangerous. The beds were easy to prepare since the soil was already richly fertilized, so it was just a matter of turning the soil and waiting for the plants to arrive. It was actually quite enjoyable, digging in the rich earth of the garden. His favourite time was the early morning when the whole world seemed to be asleep, and the faint morning chill didn't bother him as he worked. Harry soon found he was spending a lot of his free time working there. It easier to think, somehow, with a shovel in his hand, and he wondered if Snape would mind if he planted a vegetable garden, too, next year. He'd have to talk with Molly Weasley first, and get some ideas of what would be best to plant.

Two weeks after Snape's departure, the seedlings arrived. Harry separated them and began planting them in the various beds, making careful notes in a ledger he'd found as to the date planted, type of plant, and other pertinent information. He was just about through with the last bed when a sharp voice startled him.

"Potter, what in bloody _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

Harry looked around to see Snape glaring at him, and he smirked a little. "Planting seedlings. Want to help?"

"Idiot! Do you have the _slightest_ idea what you're doing?" Snape snapped.

"As a matter of fact," Harry said, standing up and wiping his hands on an old rag. "I do. I found your plans for the garden in the library. I've kept a careful record of what I planted, where I planted it, and when I planted it. And despite your opinion of my intelligence, I did quite well in herbology. Besides, Neville helped with the few questions I had."

Snape went white. "Longbottom? Here? In _my_ garden?"

Harry grinned. "Actually, he was too busy to come by. Apparently, it's their busy time of year at the Botanicals. But he said he'd drop by in a week or two and see how I'm getting on." Snape appeared to be torn between relief that Neville hadn't been there, and worry about his impending visit. "I'm sorry if I spoiled your fun."

Snape shrugged. "Actually, I don't particularly enjoy the planting process, although I've done it in years past. The house-elves generally tend to the plants afterward, although I harvest them myself."

"I'll tend them," Harry offered. "It's not like I have a lot to occupy my time these days with the team on break."

Snape cocked his head. "That's likely to change, is it not? Madam Hooch tells me that retirement appears possible for your Seeker."

Harry shrugged. "Even so, we won't start training till after the Cup. And - I like working in the garden. It gives me time to think."

"Then by all means, continue to do so," Snape said. "Anything that enhances that process is to be encouraged."

Harry gave him a one-fingered salute and headed towards the tool shed to put away his gardening equipment. "So, what brings you here? Exams are in two weeks - was the general craziness too much for you, or did you just come here to harass your gardener?" Snape flushed slightly, looking away, and Harry suddenly knew.

"Oh. Right -it's been a month, hasn't it?" He managed a partial smile. "Regular as clock-work, you are."

Snape cleared his throat. "You needn't...if it is distasteful..."

Harry sighed. "Look, we both know that you saved me from that bastard Malfoy. If the price I have to pay is rolling over for you once a month, I think I can manage. I'm well aware that I'd be worse off with him."

There were two spots of colour on Snape's cheeks and he said harshly, "That's hardly an enticing invitation, Potter."

"It's the only one on offer, isn't it?" Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I've got to shower and then I'll join you for dinner, all right?" Without waiting for Snape's reply, he went into the house and upstairs.

Dinner was another quiet meal. Snape was clearly on edge after their previous discussion, and Harry tried desperately to think of something to say, and recalled a conversation he'd overheard outside the apothecary in Diagon Alley the previous week.

"I understand you're pretty high in the running for _Cauldron Quarterly_ 's 'Potion Master of the Year' award," he said.

Snape looked up at him in surprise but nodded. "The improvements I've made to the Wolfsbane potion," he said by way of explanation.

"Really?" Harry said. "I've heard Remus mention how much easier the transformations are now. He's looking much healthier these days."

"Regular meals will do that for a person," Snape said dryly.

"Speaking of regular meals," Harry said pointedly, "Albus tells me you're missing too many of them."

Snape sneered at him. "Nagging, Potter? What a proper little housewife you're becoming."

Harry flinched but raised his chin determinedly. "It doesn't do anyone any good if you work yourself to death, Severus."

Snape glared at him but Harry just glared back. After a moment, Snape closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Very well," he said grudgingly. "I will try to attend more meals."

"Good," Harry said, feeling oddly satisfied. "Anyway, we'll have you home in a few weeks, and I'm sure Pippa and Toby will fatten you up."

Snape snorted at that. "They have attempted to do so in the past, without much success."

Harry smirked. "Ah, but now you have the 'little housewife' here to nag you into eating."

"Nag me into hiding in my workroom, more like," Snape muttered, and then looked across the table at Harry with something remarkably like resignation in his eyes. "I'm going to regret that housewife remark, aren't I?"

Harry's lip twitched, but he was having far too much fun to let Snape off the hook just yet. "Oh, I would definitely say so. In fact, I believe I feel a headache coming on." Snape gave him a blank look and Harry gave up with a sigh. "You haven't a clue, have you? That's a standard line for Muggle wives when they want to withhold sex."

Snape looked alarmed by that thought, and Harry couldn't help laughing. "Relax, Severus. I'm not that heartless." He pushed back from the table as he said, "I'll head on up."

When Snape entered Harry's bedroom a short while later, Harry was amused to see the cautious look in his eyes as he surveyed the room and then Harry. He appeared to find everything satisfactory because he relaxed just the slightest bit and made his usual way to the bed. Harry waved out the lights, then lay on his side and waited as Snape made the usual preparations.

He could tell that Snape was deliberately taking his time, making sure Harry was ready for him. It was comforting in a way, knowing that Snape wouldn't risk hurting him. Still, Harry couldn't help feeling irritated with the man and wished he'd get on with it. It seemed like forever before Snape was gasping in completion, and Harry's own climax felt more unsatisfactory than ever.

Snape seemed to sense something was wrong, for once he was finished and had cleaned them both up, he leaned close and murmured, "Harry?"

"What?"

"Are you...all right? Do you require a potion or anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Would you prefer me to remain here for the night?"

Harry sighed. Snape was being - for Snape - remarkably indulgent. "No, that's all right. You don't have to stay."

"Very well." Harry was almost certain that he felt the ghostly press of lips against his shoulder before Snape eased his way out of bed, but knowing that Snape abhorred romantic mush, he decided that he'd imagined it. "Good night, Harry. Should you require anything in the morning..."

"I'll let you know. Good night, Severus."

The bedroom door opened and closed. Harry debated getting up for a shower, and then decided he was too tired tonight. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep and tried not to think about why his throat felt so tight.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

Snape was once again gone in the morning and Harry refused to think about it as he returned to his gardening. The next few weeks passed quickly. He'd invited Ron to spend a week at the house, the first vacation his friend had had since taking over the Department of Magical Games and Sports. As the University of London had just finished for the term, Hermione came down for a week as well.

Their visit cheered him up considerably. Both Ron and Hermione were delighted with the house and what he'd done with his "den", as he called the cottage. He and Ron spent hours playing Quidditch one-on-one in the west field while Hermione pored over the books in the library. Evenings were spent in front of the fire in the sitting room or in the den, talking or watching the telly that he'd managed to get working out there. Snape didn't put in an appearance, although he was aware that Harry's friends were there as Harry had owled him for permission for Hermione to borrow one of his books. He'd given his grudging permission, since it was Hermione, which had pleased her considerably.

On the last day of their visit, Harry got up early and went down to work in the garden. He'd neglected the beds over the past few days, not wanting to waste any of his precious free time with his friends, but they were in desperate need of weeding. He got down on his hands and knees and began working his way down the rows, carefully pulling weeds as he checked on the growing seedlings.

"Would you like a little help?"

Harry looked up, startled, and smiled when he saw Hermione standing nearby. "Should have known it was you," he said. "Ron still sleeping?"

Hermione flushed slightly and nodded. It was an open secret that she and Ron were already lovers, although as far as the Weasley family was aware, they were waiting to get married until after Hermione finished her Muggle university studies. Between Ron's work schedule and her classes, they didn't have much chance to be together, and Harry had been glad to give them the opportunity.

Harry couldn't help but envy the easy way they had with each other, however, or the fact that both of them knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives. Ron's passion for and understanding of Quidditch had revitalized his department after Bagman's betrayal. Hermione had a position waiting for her as Special Advocate in the restructured Department for Magical Creatures when she finished her studies. Compared with the borderline disaster of his marriage and his own doubts about his future, it appeared as if their lives were perfect.

"Come on, then," Harry told Hermione. "I've got to get them weeded before breakfast. Severus is probably coming home this weekend, and heaven help me if his precious plants look neglected."

Hermione set to work at the other end of the bed, and they worked in companionable silence for a while before Hermione said quietly, "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Nothing."

She sighed and sat back on her heels. "Don't tell me that. I _know_ something is wrong. You're - I don't know - too quiet. And last night when Ron and I went up to bed...does it bother you that we're sleeping together?"

"No!" Harry said, startled by the question. "I'm fine with it, really."

"Then...is it Professor Snape? Is there something wrong between the two of you?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, we were both forced to marry someone we don't love. How could anything be _right_ between us?"

"He doesn't...hurt you or anything, does he?" she asked anxiously.

"No, not exactly. It's just...well...to be honest, I'm just not too keen about the sex." He knew he was bright red with embarrassment, and he stared at the ground as he pulled out weeds with a little more violence than necessary.

"A man who's not keen about sex - what's wrong with this picture?" Hermione said, a teasing note in her voice.

"We've done it - had sex - three times, and I hated it every time."

" _Three times_? And you've been married over two months?"

Harry scowled at her. "Well, do _you_ honestly like it, being poked like that?"

Hermione blinked. "Of course I like it. We wouldn't do it if I - oh!" she said, as if something was suddenly clear. "Harry, the first few times Ron and I had sex, well, it wasn't exactly great. Neither of us knew what we were doing, and it was awkward, and I didn't get much out of it. But with practice and...and learning about each other, it got better, and now I love it just as much as Ron."

"I don't think it's quite the same thing between men," Harry said. "Severus is not exactly inexperienced, you know."

"Is he?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry said blankly.

"Experienced. We never saw him with anyone while we were at school, and you know how quickly stories like _that_ spread. Maybe he hasn't had much more experience than you."

Harry looked doubtful. "He seems to know what he's doing."

She gave him an amused smile. "Would Snape admit it if he didn't? Have you tried doing something different, like oral sex? Or reversing roles - you topping and him bottoming?"

"He refuses."

"Well, there you have it, then," she said triumphantly.

"Have what?" he asked, confused.

Patiently, as if explaining it to a moron, she said, "Obviously, if he didn't enjoy being on the bottom, he's not going to know how to make _you_ enjoy it."

Harry frowned at the ground as he thought about this idea. It made sense, but it didn't help in the least. If Snape was nearly as clueless as he was about sex, things could hardly improve. "So what do I do?"

"I'd suggest talking to _your husband_ about the problem," Hermione said frankly. "Not to mention getting a good sex book, the kind that shows positions and tell you how to do things, like giving a blow job."

Harry looked at Hermione, slightly shocked at hearing her say things like that. "I wouldn't know where to find something like that - I wouldn't even know how to _ask_!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, men! You're worse at asking for help with sex than you are about asking for directions." Harry flushed and she said, "I'll ask around at University, see what I can find out, and I'll let you know. In the meantime, _talk_ to him, okay?"

Harry smiled at her gratefully, then they turned their attention back to the weeds.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

The week after his friends left, Harry's life suddenly became busy again. With his contract up for renewal, the team's Management was heavily wooing him to remain with them while trying not to alienate Eloise Barton, the current Seeker. Harry had meetings with his agent, with Management, and "team building" exercises designed to make them all one big happy family. Considering that Eloise was furious about the fuss over the reserve Seeker instead of her, one of their beaters was still out on disability and talking lawsuit, and Harry's two ex-flatmates were barely speaking to him, Harry didn't think much of their chances.

Harry returned home after a long team press conference, feeling weary to the bone, and nearly tripped over several trunks in the foyer. He was just wondering if he'd Apparated to the wrong house or if the house-elves were doing a belated Spring-cleaning when Snape walked into the room.

"So, you're back, are you?" Snape said. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Are these your trunks?" Harry asked, leaning his broom against the wall and removing his Quidditch robes. The management had wanted the entire team in full gear for the photo shoot this morning, and he was feeling hot and tired after posing for hours. "When did you get home?"

"Yesterday," Snape said shortly. "Term ended a few days ago, if you remember."

"Did it?" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. The last few days have been hectic - I can barely remember my own name much less anything else."

"I can imagine," Snape said dryly. "I hear the team is offering to triple your salary if you stay with them. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I think. I haven't actually accepted yet." He sat down on a chair and pulled off his boots. His feet ached from standing on them for hours. "I heard about your award as well. Potion Master of the Year, plus I hear you're in the running for the Lifetime Achievement award in potion making - pretty damn good."

"One hopes that it doesn't portend the end of my life," Snape said, but Harry thought he could detect a hint of satisfaction on the man's face. "Are you home for the duration?"

"Just a few hours, unfortunately," Harry said, picking up his boots as he prepared to head upstairs. "They're having a dinner tonight with the team sponsors and the press, and I have to attend. The last for a while, thank God. I'm going to go up and crash for a few hours first."

Acting on impulse, Harry leaned forward and brushed a kiss over Snape's cheek. "I'm glad you're home, Severus."

Harry was almost sure he saw surprised pleasure in the other man's eyes before he dragged himself upstairs and collapsed across the bed.

* * *

The trunks were gone when Harry hurried back down the stairs several hours later, fastening the last buttons of his dress robes. He was running late, having forgotten to cast a wake-up spell on his clock before falling into bed. "Severus!" he called as he crossed the foyer. "Are you - ah, there you are," he said as the other man came out of the sitting room. "I'm off again - shouldn't be any later than midnight but don't wait up. You know how people in power love to hear themselves talk."

"Very well, Harry," Snape said. He was holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper and held it up. "This came for you from Miss Granger," he said.

"Really?" Harry cast a curious look at the package. It was still two weeks till his birthday, and he couldn't think of any other reason why she might be sending him a package. "Put it in my den, if you will. I'll take a look at it later." He grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the can on the mantle.

"Harry," Snape said, and he looked around inquiringly. "Be careful."

This time, Harry was positive he saw something in Snape's eyes, and he thought that maybe Hermione was right. Maybe they _should_ talk. And maybe - oh, bugger! he thought as he was swept into the Floo system. The package was probably a sex book she'd found for him, but it would have to wait till he returned later.

* * *

Harry nearly fell out onto the hearth, not in the least helped by the fact that his teammate stumbled into him as they exited. He sighed as he helped the other man to his feet: Reggie Gordon was a nice enough person and a superb chaser, but he couldn't hold his booze and he had a notorious wandering eye. Not to mention his hand, which was right now wandering over parts of Harry's anatomy that it shouldn't be.

Harry caught his hands. "Whoa, Reggie! Illegal motion there, mate. Keep the hands on the Quaffle, all right?"

Reggie grinned drunkenly at him. "I'd like to handle _your_ Quaffle," he said, leering. Harry rolled his eyes; not only was the invitation uninteresting but it was unoriginal as well.

"Yeah, well, it's late and I'm sure there are plenty of other Quaffles out there." He steered Reggie toward the fireplace. "So now that you've seen me home - mrphh!"

Reggie might have been drunk but his libido appeared keen, because he'd pulled Harry into an embrace and was trying to explore his tonsils with his tongue. Harry pushed him away. "Stop it, Reggie! I'm _married_ , for God's sake."

"Yes, he is," came a deep and silky voice from the doorway, and Harry swung around in surprise to see Snape leaning against the doorjamb. The man had removed his outer robe, had a whiskey glass in his hand, and appeared to be in only slightly better shape than Reggie.

Harry sighed. _Wonderful_ , he thought. _Two of them to deal with._

He took advantage of Reggie's surprise to push him toward the fireplace, throwing in a handful of powder and giving the direction of the hotel they'd just come from. The hotel staff would either toss him into an empty bed and let him sober up, or they would call the team manager to take care of him.

Sighing, Harry turned back to face his other problem. "Evening, Severus. I thought I told you not to wait up."

"And now I see why," Snape said as he unfolded himself from the doorframe. Harry revised his opinion: not completely drunk, just enough to relax that iron-tight control the man normally held over his body. "Is that your latest inamorata?"

"My latest _what_?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Reggie's just a friend - hell, he's not even a friend, just one of the others on the team."

"And are _we_ friends, Harry?" Snape asked, moving forward with that gliding walk of his. "One certainly couldn't call us _lovers_ , now could they?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Whatever this is, Severus, I don't have the energy for it tonight. Let's talk about it in the morning, all right?"

"No, it is _not_ all right, _Mr._ _Potter_ ," Snape said, hissing out the last two words almost in Harry's face. He turned away abruptly, walking over to the sofa. "Do you know, Harry, I have spent the evening reading the most _delightful_ little book? One sent to you by your dear friend, Miss Granger."

Snape scooped up a book from the couch and whirled toward Harry, and he had to admire the way Snape kept his balance, even as "relaxed" as he was. "Does she know about your little _amours_? Is that why she sent this, to help you with your conquests?"

He tossed the book at Harry and he caught it easily enough, and then stared at the cover in chagrined surprise. _The Gay Wizard's Kama Sutra_ , he read in bold red lettering, and he groaned.

"I can explain this, Severus," he said.

"I'm sure you can," Snape said with a sneer. "Although I'm not sure I want to hear your _explanation_. You certainly had me fooled all this time, playing the shy virgin. I suppose the novelty of that approach has worn off, so you've had to find something else to entice your clientele."

"My _what_?" Harry snapped, starting to get angry now. He tossed the book onto the table. "Are you calling me a _whore_?"

"Nothing so common, I'm sure," Snape said, curling his lip. "Not for the Boy Who Lived. A courtesan, at the least."

"That's it!" Harry snapped. "I have had enough! I am going to bed, and in the morning I _might_ accept your apology - _if_ you grovel enough."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the sitting room, into the foyer, and to the base of the stairs. Before he could start up, however, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Snape's eyes were glittering dangerously, and Harry caught his breath as a frisson of fear danced up his spine.

"Oh, no, you don't, husband of mine," Snape said silkily, still holding Harry's arm in his strong grip so that Harry couldn't pull away. "Tonight, you won't shut me out of either your heart _or_ your bed."

Snape swung Harry up into his arms and carried him up the staircase. Harry struggled as much as he dared, not sure if he should be more worried about tumbling them both down the stairs or giving into whatever madness had possessed Snape.

For madness it seemed to be. Snape kicked open the door to Harry's bedroom, shattering the wood, but didn't seem to care as he crossed the room to toss Harry down onto the bed. Harry attempted to scramble out on the other side, but Snape was too quick for him, pulling him back onto the bed.

"No, you don't get away from me that easily," he said, effortlessly containing Harry's struggles.

"You don't want to do this," Harry protested, trying to wiggle a hand free to get to his wand. "You're upset, you've had too much to drink - a night's rest and it'll all look different in the morning."

"Oh, I don't think either of us will be getting much rest tonight," Snape replied, a wicked smirk on his face. He captured Harry's hands and pinned them down above his head.

Harry struggled, trying to pull his hands free from the Potion master's surprisingly strong grip, while at the same time attempting to knee him in the groin. Snape skilfully evaded this attempt, instead forcing Harry's legs apart and settling firmly between them. Harry gasped as the weight of the other man pinned him to the bed.

"Please, Sev- " Harry's plea was cut off abruptly as Snape leaned down and fastened his mouth to Harry's. Harry was so surprised at finding himself forcibly kissed that he gasped, and Snape took advantage of the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, capturing Harry's mouth completely.

Harry's struggles weakened as the power of Snape's kisses overwhelmed him. He'd only been kissed twice before - by Cho and then Reggie - but neither of those kisses held a candle to this one. Snape's kisses were hot and hungry as he devoured Harry's mouth, exploring and possessing him thoroughly, and Harry dazedly thought he could become addicted to them.

He was vaguely aware that Snape had released his captured hands but Harry had no desire to find his wand now, only the aching need to return those devastating kisses. And that was probably a good thing because he had the hazy idea that his wand was somewhere on the floor, along with the shredded bits of his clothing. Not that he could recall why he needed his wand, because all he wanted to do was press upward into the lean, naked body stretched along his.

Snape apparently had decided to forego his wand as well, because he was using his fingers to stretch and lubricate Harry instead of the usual spell. Harry groaned and writhed on the fingers pressing deep inside him - and why had he ever thought that having Severus' fingers there would be disgusting? It was bliss, it was heaven - it wasn't nearly enough, and he cried out with relief as he felt something larger and hotter than fingers slide into him.

Harry arched upwards, trying to get more of that delicious heat inside, and locked his ankles together behind Snape's waist to pull him closer. Snape pressed biting kisses over his face and neck, his velvet voice muttering delicious obscenities mixed with praise into Harry's ear.

"Move!" Harry begged as he clutched at his lover. "Please!" Snape moved, pulling his prick nearly out of Harry's body, and Harry moaned at the loss. Then he was slamming back in, hard and fast, and something inside Harry lit up with fiery pleasure.

"Yes!" he shouted. "God - yes - again!"

Snape shifted Harry's legs to his shoulders, bending him nearly in half, but Harry didn't mind because his lover was pounding into him now, striking that wonderful place inside with every thrust. It was incredible, intoxicating, to feel the powerful thrusts of his lover's body and the overwhelming heat of his own response - and why hadn't he known that it could be like this? Now he knew why people loved sex so much - he wanted this to go on forever, he wanted it never to stop, he wanted to touch that glorious light that hovered just out of his reach.

And then he was _there_. He could feel his body seizing up as sparks raced through every nerve and muscle, could feel a burning wetness spreading across his belly, and he howled his pleasure to the night. Snape was gasping and swearing above him, caught in the throes of his own climax, and it was all too much for Harry.

His last thought before he tumbled into blissful darkness was _I really must remember to send Hermione a thank-you note._

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

Harry slowly eased into wakefulness although he determinedly kept his eyes shut against the morning light. He wasn't ready to wake up completely yet, but he allowed himself a luxurious stretch, deliciously aware of all the aches and pains in his body. He was still exhausted from the exertions of the night but he couldn't help grinning. What a night it had been! He'd never suspected that his husband could be such an amazing lover, and he could hardly wait to repeat the experience.

He reached out a questing hand, seeking his lover's body, but found only empty bed. Frowning, he opened his eyes to confirm that he was alone, and looked around the room. Yes, there had definitely been two people in this bed and the marks on his body were testament to the fact that they'd had wild sex, so it hadn't been a weird dream. The remnants of his clothing were scattered about the floor, so that had been real as well. Perhaps Severus was in the shower? Or maybe he was just an early riser?

Harry carefully pushed up into a sitting position and looked around. There, on the night table beside him, were his wand, a familiar looking flask, and a folded piece of parchment. Feeling an ominous sense of foreboding, Harry picked up the parchment.

*Harry,

I deeply regret my treatment of you last night. As you no doubt noticed, I had imbibed more alcohol than was perhaps wise. I also appear to have developed an unexpected jealous streak, the result being my unprincipled assault upon your person. I will not ask you to forgive me - I do not deserve such forgiveness. For once in my life, I wanted something pure, and in my foolishness, I have destroyed it.

Under other circumstances, I would advise you to apply for divorce, citing my wretched abuse, but at the present time, that would only make it possible for Lucius Malfoy to get his hands on you. Therefore, I have removed myself to Hogwarts and will remain there for the duration of our marriage. You need not fear that I will make unwanted demands upon your body, and you are free to seek other companionship. Once the Malfoy threat has passed, I will petition for divorce, freeing you to seek a more worthy mate. The house and all of its remaining contents are, and will remain, yours. Consider it compensation, although inadequate, for what you have endured at my hands.

Severus Snape*

Harry threw back the covers and, uncaring of his nudity, ran out of the room and down the stairs to Snape's workroom. The door was no longer warded, and when Harry opened it, he was stunned to see that the place was bare. It was true, then. Severus had left.

He went into the library next, expecting to find it similarly denuded, and was surprised to find it intact. For some reason, that made tears come to his eyes, and he murmured, "Oh, Severus," as he stroked the spine of one of his husband's precious books. Leaving the library, he slowly made his way up the stairs, pausing for a moment to look into Snape's bedroom. He'd never been in there and was surprised to find it decorated in wine red and deep green instead of black, but he wasn't surprised to find the wardrobe and dresser empty.

Slowly, he made his way back to his own room and sat down on the bed. He picked up the letter and read it again, his heart aching as the full extent of his loss sunk in. How could Snape leave him now, just as they'd _finally_ resolved their sexual problem, and just as Harry'd realized how much he loved -

Harry's head jerked up. Of _course_! Snape was working under the assumption that Harry still considered this a marriage of convenience. He had no idea just how much Harry had enjoyed last night - or how much Harry had come to feel for Snape. And Harry was going to make sure that he knew exactly that, right now.

Harry threw on a robe and headed back down to the study. He considered Flooing to Hogwarts to confront his errant husband but decided that Snape might need a little distance to sort things out, and if Harry pressured him in any way, he'd just plant his stubborn feet and refuse to listen. A letter was a much better idea.

Pulling out a piece of parchment from the writing desk, he wrote:

*Severus Snape,

You are an Idiot.

Did it look like I was fighting to get away? Okay, maybe at the beginning I was, but right about the point where you started exploring my tonsils with your tongue, I surrendered and went along for the ride. And what a ride it was! The only regret I have is that you were not there when I woke up this morning, so that we could do it all over again.

Come back home, Sev. I miss you and I need you. I love you.

Your Harry*

As he watched Hedwig fly off with the note attached to her leg, he felt confident that he would get his husband back. After all, he was just as stubborn as Snape, and he was a lot more determined.

Harry turned to head back upstairs to shower and dress, and caught sight of the _Kama Sutra_ sitting on the table. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, blushing a little at the pictures. Then he grinned and tucked the book under his arm as he headed upstairs. After all, he had time to kill until his lover returned, and a little research would fill the empty hours. Plus, it would be fun to surprise Snape when he got back.

No, Severus Snape didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Harry critically studied his reflection in the mirror and decided with a sigh that it would just have to do. His new green robes looked very nice and highlighted his eyes and he'd decided to wear them open over his black shirt and trousers, both of which had been chosen because they fit his body like a glove. He'd just reapplied the shaving spell and his skin was smooth and stubble-free. His hair - well, he sighed again and accepted that there wasn't much he could do with it.

He glanced at the clock on the mantle and noted that the hand had moved closer to the mark "Time to meet Severus". He made a face as he tucked his wand into an inside pocket of his robe. It wasn't _exactly_ what he'd wanted, but it had taken almost two full weeks to convince Snape to meet him face to face to discuss the situation, and he'd only succeeded then because he'd agreed to meet Snape at a restaurant, not at the house.

Harry looked over the bed - _their_ bed in what had formerly been Severus' bedroom - one last time. He checked the drawer in the night table to make sure the new supplies were at hand, just in case he was successful tonight. He smirked; Severus Snape might be the most stubborn man alive with a guilt complex a mile wide, but Harry was stubborn, too, and very determined to get his way.

Moving into Severus' bedroom was only one of the changes he'd made over the past two weeks. After careful consideration, he'd informed his agent and the England team's Management that he had decided not to renew his contract. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, but he had some ideas and now he had the time to try them out. Harry also wanted to explore the idea of starting a family, which he certainly couldn't do while playing Quidditch.

First things first, however - he had to convince his husband to come back home.

Harry Flooed to the restaurant and wasn't surprised to find that he had arrived before Snape. He let the waiter show him to their table and ordered a bottle of champagne, hoping that tonight would be a celebration.

"Well, well," said a familiar silky voice. "If it isn't Harry Potter. It's such a pleasure to see you again."

Harry glared at Lucius Malfoy as he approached the table. "Malfoy," he said distastefully. "The feeling is _not_ mutual."

Lucius laughed softly, and Harry shivered at the ice-cold malice in it. "I'm sorry to hear that you feel like that. I was hoping that we could talk and...renew our acquaintance."

"Sorry, Malfoy, but I have other plans. My _husband_ ," Harry said, a trifle maliciously, "is joining me for dinner."

"Ah. Well, in that case, let me offer you a menu," Lucius said, handing him one. "Might I recommend the Catch of the Day?" As Harry touched the menu, he felt a horribly familiar tugging sensation behind his navel and Lucius' fading voice. "It's _you_."

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

Harry woke up in a strange dark room, his head aching and a sour taste in his mouth. He realized that he was tied by both his hands and feet as well as gagged, and that his robe was missing. He was still wearing his other clothes, but if the soft surface underneath him was a bed as he suspected, he wouldn't be wearing them for long.

This day was going down hill fast.

What puzzled him was what Lucius thought he'd get out of this. Raping Harry wouldn't make a difference to the marriage contract between him and Snape - his husband had stipulated in the original document that both of them were free to take lovers. It might cause a setback in Harry's reconciliation with Severus, but surely the other man would forgive him, knowing it was forced. Plus, Harry would file charges against Lucius that would have him sent to Azkaban for sure. Unless...had Lucius captured Snape as well? Did he plan to kill the other man, then forcibly wed and bed Harry?

The thought made chills run up Harry's spine, and it was with fearful and yet defiant eyes that he stared at Lucius as the man entered the room.

Lucius set the candle he was carrying on the night table and stared down at Harry with a gloating look in his eyes. "Ah, Mr. Potter. So glad you could accept my invitation," he said as he removed the gag.

Harry glared at him. "It's Potter-Snape, and if you think you're going to get away with this, you are sadly mistaken."

"But I already _have_ gotten away with it," Lucius said smoothly. "I have you, and if you think the estimable Severus Snape will come rushing to your rescue, let me assure you that he won't know where to look for you. No one will find you until it is far too late."

Harry shivered at the malicious tone in the man's voice. This was about more than Lucius regaining his place in society; it was personal. "Too late for what?"

Lucius pulled out a knife and held it up in the candlelight, and Harry's heart jumped into his throat. Lucius smirked. "I doubt that you recognize that taste in your mouth -potions never was your strong suite, was it? I am sure that your husband - soon to be _ex_ -husband - would, however."

Harry blanched. "Poison?"

"Now, my dear Harry, would good would poisoning you do me?" Lucius laughed. He placed the tip of the knife in the centre of Harry's chest, just piercing the fabric of his shirt, and slowly drew it down Harry's chest. The silk shirt was sliced open as smoothly as a hot knife cutting through butter. Lucius smiled at his handiwork and turned to the sleeves.

"While I do admit there would be a certain satisfaction in ridding myself of your annoying existence," he said, slitting the right sleeve and then tearing it away from Harry's body, "I have more...pressing needs at the moment."

He similarly disposed of the left sleeve, then tore away the remnants of the shirt. "Impressive, Mr. Potter," he said, running the tip of the knife just over the surface of Harry's chest and circling one of his nipples. "Very impressive. Quidditch is so good for the masculine form, don't you think?"

Lucius set the knife down on the night table next to his wand, then sat down on the side of the bed. Casually, he removed his boots as his eyes flicked over Harry's body. Harry refused to flinch under Lucius' lecherous gaze, and glared at him instead.

"No, not poison. What you've ingested is a male pregnancy potion. Its purpose is to prepare the male body for procreation, providing the necessary egg and womb for conception."

Harry's eyes widened and so did Lucius' smirk. "It may take a few...attempts, but within the next twenty-four hours you, Harry, will be carrying my child."

Harry glared at him. "I refuse to have your baby, Malfoy."

"I'm afraid you have very little choice in the matter," Lucius said coolly, unbuttoning his silk robe.

"Unless you plan on keeping me tied to this bed the entire time I'm pregnant, I'll find some way of getting rid of it and getting out of here," Harry snapped.

"A magical pregnancy cannot be terminated - not without killing the 'mother' as well. And as for getting out of here...well, there wouldn't be much point in that, would there? Where would you go? Back to Severus?"

Lucius laughed. "You silly child, you should have studied the _Colligare Gentes_ law more carefully. It is, after all, designed to provide heirs - _legitimate_ heirs. Should the 'bride' become pregnant with a child that is _not_ the husband's, then the contract is immediately annulled."

Lucius stood up and dropped his robe to the floor, showing that he was naked underneath. Harry swallowed hard, then flinched as Lucius picked up his wand and the knife. He slowly slit open the sides of Harry's trousers.

"Which, my dear Harry, leaves me clear to claim you and our dear child. Not entirely ethical, but society will forgive us for letting our 'passion' get away with us."

He waved his wand and Harry's trousers were ripped away. Lucius smirked, and Harry regretted that he'd decided to go commando tonight. "Why, Harry! Such a naughty boy! And such a sweet surprise for dear Severus - not that he'll be able to enjoy it."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." A new voice, soft and deadly, made Harry jerk his head around to stare in surprise and relief at his husband standing in the doorway, wand in hand.

Lucius sighed as he pointed his own wand at Snape. "Really, Severus, you are becoming quite tiresome. How did you find me -no, let me guess." He touched Harry's left hand with the tip of the knife, tracing the ring on his finger. "A tracking spell?" As Snape took a step forward, Lucius applied a little pressure to the knife, piercing the skin. Harry gasped as a drop of blood ran down the sharp blade and spattered the pristine sheets.

Snape froze and Lucius laughed, a low, ugly sound. "Maybe it's even better that you found us, Severus. You shall be forced to watch as I rape your precious Harry, impregnating him with _my_ child. Watch as you lose him forever, while you can do _nothing_ to save him."

"Don't be too certain of that, Malfoy," Snape growled.

Lucius moved, almost quicker than Harry could see, and the knife was now at Harry's throat. "Oh, I _am_ certain," he purred. "Wand on the floor, Severus, and don't even think about being clever." Snape slowly bent and placed the wand on the floor. "Now kick it under the bed - gently! Wouldn't want to damage it, would we?"

Snape obeyed. Harry could see the frustrated fury in his husband's eyes, and he knew that if Lucius made just one wrong move, Snape would kill him. His mind worked quickly, trying to figure a way out of this situation. All he could hope was that Lucius would overplay his hand, get too confident, and give either him or Severus a chance to act.

"Very good. Now - sit in that chair. You should be able to have a good view of the proceedings from there," Lucius said.

Snape's eyes met Harry's and he made a short jerking motion with his head. Harry, guessing that he wanted Harry to draw Lucius' attention for a moment, jerked at the bindings on his hands as if trying to get free.

Lucius turned his head briefly to glare at him. "Impatient, my pet? I'll be with you in a moment. But first," he said, turning his attention back to Snape who was quietly sitting in the chair, his arms on the chair arms, "I have some loose ends to tie up." He flicked his wand and thin cords immediately lashed Snape's arms to the chair. Satisfied, Lucius turned his attention back to Harry, but Harry caught the gleam of candlelight on a small blade under Snape's arm, and was filled with hope.

"Now, my dear Harry, it is time to take care of you." Lucius waved his wand as he released the knife, and it hovered in the air above Harry's head, point down. "Did you know that you and Severus have something in common as far as I am concerned?" he asked, circling the bed and watching his prey with a gleam in his eye. He waved his wand again and the rope binding Harry's legs disappeared. "I was his first lover, and I will be your last."

"Ah, I _thought_ he must have had an appallingly bad lover before me," Harry said mockingly. "Considering he had no idea of the right way to treat his partner when we first got married."

Snape frowned slightly but Harry ignored him. There was time to remedy Snape's hurt pride later - if they survived. He concentrated on Lucius who was glaring at him, and said, "Thought that you just shoved it in there and pounded away. No finesse, no style. You'll be glad to know that he's vastly improved, although I doubt _you_ have."

"Shut. Up," Lucius said from between clenched teeth as he stood beside the bed, fists clenched.

"The last time we made love, it was so good, so intense, I passed right out from the pleasure of it." Harry looked up at Lucius and cocked his head slightly. "When was the last time you made someone faint during sex - and pain doesn't count."

"I'm warning you..." Lucius growled as he crawled up on the bed.

"Is that why Narcissa left you?" Harry asked, affecting deep interest in the subject. "What do you think, Sev?"

"Well, there _were_ rumours in Death eater circles that she was so unsatisfied at home, she'd sleep with just about anyone. Even MacNair."

"That's a lie!" Lucius snapped, and started to turn towards Snape, wand in hand.

Harry saw that Snape was stealthily cutting at his bonds, and knew he had to focus Lucius' attention back on him. "Of course, with a prick that size, I'm not surprised. Have you ever thought about an enlargement spell? They're not that difficult to learn, you know. Or a potion - I expect Sev could whip you up one."

"As you young people say," Snape said blandly, and Harry could see he had one hand free and was working on the other, " 'Been there, done that'."

"Shut up, shut up!" Lucius snapped, roughly pushing Harry's legs apart so he could settle between them. "I can't do this with all the racket you two are making!"

"Performance anxiety?" Harry said solicitously. "I can understand how that might be a problem. Here - let me help." He brought up his foot and kicked, fast and hard - right into his would-be rapist's naked genitals, then quickly threw all his weight in a roll to his right side.

Lucius gasped and fell sideways on the bed, curled into a protective knot around his abused prick. Released from his control, the knife plunged, point first, and embedded itself into the mattress behind Harry's head. Snape was across the room, almost before it landed. He snatched up the knife and used it to sever the ropes binding Harry's hands, then threw it aside and pulled Harry into his arms.

"Are you all right?" Snape demanded, nearly crushing Harry with his hug. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Harry gasped. "Could use - a little air - "

Snape abruptly released him, whirling around to snatch up Lucius' wand. The blond man was still writhing on the bed in obvious agony, and a cruel smile touched Snape's lips. "Well, Lucius, you certainly made a cock-up of this. Didn't you pay attention in your rape lessons to the part about subduing your victim?"

"Sev."

Snape ignored Harry, his attention completely focused on Lucius, and his eyes hardened. Harry saw Lucius' death in those eyes, but at the moment, he thought that Malfoy was in too much agony to care.

"It is fortunate for _you_ ," Snape said, his voice soft and deadly, "that the Aurors will be here shortly, or I would kill you right now for daring to touch what is _mine_. And I would advise you to _pray_ that you get sent to Azkaban. It is the only thing that will prevent me from taking your miserable life."

There was the sound of running feet outside, and several wizards burst into the room. Snape turned back to Harry, pulled off his cloak, and quickly wrapped it around the naked man. Harry's lips twitched at the possessiveness of the action and he murmured, "My hero."

Snape glared at him, then suddenly touched the back of Harry's head. "You're bleeding," he said in a flat voice.

"Just a scratch," Harry assured him. "When the knife came down."

Snape's eyes widened with alarm, and he stood up, pulling Harry with him. "I'll take you to St. Mungo's - "

"Severus," Harry said firmly, grasping his lover's face so that he could have his full attention. "I'm _fine_. I just need to go home, all right?"

Snape looked over at the Aurors who were securing the naked and still writhing Lucius Malfoy. "Do you need either of us any further?"

The lead Auror shook his head. "We can file the initial reports, Professor. We'll report that Mr. Potter was being restrained against his will, and Mr. Malfoy's condition speaks for his intentions. When Mr. Potter's recovered a bit from his ordeal, he can pop over to the Ministry to file a complaint, but we've got enough to hold Mr. Malfoy till then." He held out Harry's green robe. "Found this downstairs, sir. From the description of the waiter, we thought it might be Mr. Potter's."

"Thanks," Harry said, and checked that the wand was still in place.

Snape fetched his own wand from under the bed, then snapped Lucius' wand with great satisfaction and handed the pieces to the Aurors. He took Harry in his arms and said, "Let's go home."

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

They Apparated onto the back terrace, and Harry looked up at the house, feeling overwhelmingly happy to be home again. The house-elves were overjoyed to see both of them, and fussed over Harry as he sat on the sitting room couch, bringing him food and drink while Snape silently cleaned and treated the graze along the back of his head. After eating half of a sandwich and drinking a glass of juice, Harry assured them that he was full, and they finally left him in peace.

Harry sighed and turned to see that Snape was sitting on the other end of the couch, watching him. There was an intense look in his eyes that made Harry's heart start to beat faster.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Snape said dryly. "It would appear that you have completely suborned my house-elves, as well as appropriating my garden and disrupting my household."

Harry grinned at him. "It's a gift," he said, and reached out to pull Snape closer.

Snape resisted, and there was an oddly unsure look on his face again. "Harry, about what happened the other night.... I received the impression from your letters that - is there a possibility that you forgive me?"

Harry smiled. "Nothing to forgive, unless you don't intend to repeat that performance." Harry leaned closer and murmured in Snape's ear, "You were incredible." He was amused to see the normally cool and collected Potion master's cheeks redden, and pulled Snape closer. This time he didn't resist, and Harry said, "And I've been reading that book, too."

"You have?" Snape asked, and Harry could feel the heat rising from his lover's body.

"Mmm-hmm." He nipped at his lover's earlobe. "Is this a good time to tell you that I've moved into your bedroom as well?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Have you? May I inquire why?"

Harry shrugged. "Seemed pointless to have separate bedrooms when we're going to be sharing a bed every night."

"Are we?" Snape asked, wrapping his arms around Harry. "Seems a bit presumptuous on your part."

"Oh, it's worse than that," Harry said sadly. "I'm afraid I'm going to be a very demanding lover. You'll need a potion to keep up with me." Snape turned his head and captured Harry's lips, kissing him with an intensity that made Harry's toes curl and stole his breath away. "Or not," he panted when Snape finally released him.

"I suppose I _could_ accustom myself to your continuous presence in my bed," Snape said, drawing Harry up from the couch and leading him toward the stairs.

Harry slid an arm around his lover's waist as they started up. "Besides, I have plans for my former bedroom."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "If you intend to invite your infernal godfather to make his home here, I'm putting my foot down."

"No, although I expect we'll have him and Remus over often. They're good with children and we'll need babysitters," Harry said placidly. "We _will_ need a nursery, though. After all, I have the Potter family line to restore, not to mention the obligatory Snape heir."

Snape stopped in the hallway and turned toward Harry. "Harry, if this is about Malfoy and that potion..."

Harry shook his head. "No, I've actually been thinking about it for the past two weeks, and it's something I want to do. I've always wanted to be part of a family, a _real_ family. And," he said, leaning closer to nip at his lover's earlobe, "since tomorrow is my birthday..."

Snape smirked. "You fancy getting knocked up for your present, is that it?" Harry grinned and nodded. "I believe I could manage to oblige. The potion should be effective for another forty hours. However," he said, leading Harry into his bedroom, "I have other plans for tonight."

"You do?" Harry asked, surprised.

Snape stopped by his bed - their bed - and once more turned to take Harry in his arms. "I do. I want you to make love to me."

"You mean..." Harry swallowed. "You want me to top?"

Snape leaned in to nuzzle Harry's neck. "You appeared to be enjoying yourself immensely last time, and why should you have all the fun?"

Harry didn't need to be asked twice.

Unlike the frenzied coupling the other night, this time their lovemaking was slow and deliberate. Clothes were slowly discarded and skin worshipped as it was exposed. Kisses were exchanged, building in intensity as their passion increased. Hands stroked and prodded, soothed and enticed. Murmured endearments were mixed with muttered obscenities, while hot flesh rubbed together in sweat-soaked ecstasy.

As Harry slid into the overwhelming heat of his lover's body, he thought he would die from the sheer bliss of it. There had never been anything so intense, so perfect, and he thought that he would willingly remain like this for the rest of his life. He looked down into his lover's face as he slowly rocked them both towards completion, marvelling at the pleasure mirrored in those dark eyes, the ecstasy softening the sharp features. Snape's head was thrown back, exposing his throat to Harry's kisses, and as Harry took advantage of the offer, he could feel his lover convulsing under him. It was enough to pull Harry's own release from him, and he buried his face against Snape's neck as he gasped and shuddered.

"I love you, Harry."

It was little more than a whisper, but to Harry it might as well have been shouted. He lifted his head and stared down into his lover's face, and was overwhelmed by what he saw there. Gently, he kissed Snape's lips and smiled.

"I love you, too."

Snape's arms wrapped around him, pulling him down to rest on his chest, and Harry went willingly. There were things still to resolve, plans to be made, but for now he was content to rest, secure within the arms of love.

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

The terrace was overflowing with chattering, happy people, spilling onto the grass and into the gardens. Harry ruefully surveyed the damage and was thankful that he hadn't started the spring planting yet, occupied as he had been by other things. What Snape would say about the "rampaging" through his gardens was predictable, but after a year of marriage, Harry knew a few ways to divert his ire. Some of them didn't even require a bed, he thought with a grin.

He carefully shifted the bundle in his arms and glanced back into the house. The dining room tables groaned under the weight of the food piled on them, and the front hall now sported a fountain from which champagne punch flowed. Pippa and Toby moved between the guests with trays of goodies, nearly beside themselves with joy at the opportunity to stuff more people to bursting.

Harry looked into his den as he passed, and was amused although not surprised to find that Arthur Weasley was regaling several other wizards with the wonders of Muggle "tellyfision", while another group of wizards were clustered around Harry's Quidditch gear, discussing the pros and cons of various brooms. He quickly moved past them, not wanting to be drawn into either loud discussion at the moment.

He wandered down the path towards the west field where blankets and chairs had been scattered for their guests to make themselves comfortable, and smiled at a group of children who were clustered around Sirius as he attempted to show them how to fly a kite. Sirius was clearly in his element, and Remus was lying on a blanket nearby, laughing at his lover's antics.

"Well, Harry," said a familiar voice from behind him. "You seem to have done quite well, all things considered."

Harry turned to smile at Hermione and nodded. "Not too bad - no major catastrophes, at any rate."

"I meant you," she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen you look so happy."

His smile widened but he said, "You should have been here two weeks ago," he said. "I wasn't nearly so happy then."

"We heard," Ron said, joining them and slipping an arm around Hermione. "Sirius says you were calling Snape every name in the book."

"And then some," Harry agreed. "It was worth it, though," he said, looking down affectionately at the baby sleeping in his arms. As if aware of his father's perusal, the infant stirred and woke, letting out a lusty cry of unhappiness.

"All right," Snape said crossly, materializing at his husband's side. "What did you do to set him off this time?"

"I looked at him."

"Well, that explains it," Snape said, reaching for his son. In a matter of seconds, he had the baby tucked in the crook of his arm, snuffling quietly as he sucked on the tip of his father's finger. "Honestly, Potter, if you can't handle a child any better than this, you shan't be allowed to have more." He walked off towards a contingent of Hogwarts teachers with the now-content baby.

"Promises, promises," Harry called after him, then turned back to his friends. Hermione looked like she was in mild shock, while Ron was grinning broadly.

"Now, that I had to see to believe."

Harry linked arms with his friends and began slowly strolling after his spouse and child. "He's actually very good with the baby. I think it's because they're so much alike - Nathan definitely inherited the Snape genes."

Ron shuddered. "There's a frightening thought."

"Remember a year ago, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I thought you were going to wear a hole in the floor, pacing back and forth like that. I don't know whether you were more relieved or terrified when you found out Snape had won."

"Both," Harry admitted. "I thought it was the worst day of my life, that my life was ruined and nothing would ever be the same again."

"It isn't the same," Ron pointed out. "You're living in this house in the country instead of a flat in town, you're married with a baby instead of living the single life, and you're no longer playing Quidditch. It isn't the same at all."

Harry looked around at the assembled crowd - his friends, their families, his teachers and classmates from Hogwarts, his former team-mates, Neville, his partner in his new herb growing business - all of whom had come to help them celebrate their first anniversary and the birth of their child. He looked at Sirius, now buried under a laughing pile of children, and thought how he had risked his godson's love to secure his life. He looked over at Dumbledore who was beaming down into his new godson's face, and remembered how the Headmaster had said that everything would work out for the best. He looked at his husband, scowling with mock-irritation at Dumbledore at the moment, but almost visibly radiating contentment. And he looked at his son, wiggling in his husband's arms wearing a similar look of irritation, already so dear to both of them.

"No, it isn't," Harry said, and let out a deep sigh of contentment. "It's better."

The End


End file.
